Coming to Terms
by gizzymoon
Summary: Beckett and Castle begin to come to terms with where their relationship is heading
1. Chapter 1

He was like the best, most comfortable t-shirt in her closet. The one she always went for. It was just the right length, hitting her just at the top of her thighs, covering everything important yet still letting her show enough leg to remind her that she was sexy, even when she was alone. It was just the right color, a rich brown with some sort of black image on the front. It was so faded now the image was almost invisible. It was just the right thickness, a perfect weight where it rested on her shoulders, not to light, not too thick, just right. It's arms were the perfect length, falling to her elbows, letting her feel both covered and bare at the same time.

And he was just like that shirt. The first thing she ran to when ever she had a moment to choose for herself. The perfect length, just tall enough to give him a sense of power, of strength, of safety. Yet not some tall that it was intimating. He was the perfect length. The perfect color, or it seemed that way. His shade, the color the seemed to emanate from his very soul and surround him all the time was the perfect shade of blue, light yet tumultuous, like the afternoon sky on a cloudy day. The perfect thickness. He seemed to have an uncanny sense of how far to go with her. At times, when she needed it, he was the most warm, comforting pair of arms she'd ever imaged. She could get so lost in those limbs wrapped around her, shielding her, keeping her safe and secure. At other times he knew she needed her space and he gave it willing, and without judgment. He never took it personally or held her at fault. He seemed to know somehow, just how tightly to hold her.

He had a knack of making her feel like she was the center of his universe, like she was the only thing that existed. And she wasn't entirely convinced that that wasn't really exactly how he felt. He just knew things, things people don't normally know about other people. Either they were exactly on the same wave length and he could read her mind, or he really paid that much attention to the details that made her, her. He knew just how she took her coffee. Exactly how she ordered her sandwiches. How she liked her bubble bath. He knew what song to stop on when flipping through the channels of the radio. He knew which brand of toothpaste she preferred. He knew her. Every little nuance that created the whole of her.

It was frightening. And it had hit her completely out of the blue.

They had been working together for a while and it was just so damned routine and comfortable. Somehow, he had become an expected part of her life. It was the phone calls that really got her. First it was about work. But the late night conversations lengthened into more than that as familiarity deepened. She found herself calling him more often than she called Lanie when insomnia hit and she couldn't sleep. And unlike Lanie, she never felt like she was intruding on him or putting him out by keeping him up. He didn't mind being awoken at two in the morning to listen to her ramble about absolutely nothing because she couldn't get her brain to shut up long enough for her to fall asleep. She knew he lied on several occasions when she asked if she'd woken him up. But there were almost as many occasions her call found him experiencing the same thing she was going through. They would talk about nothing, their pasts, the way they viewed life, the things they really enjoyed and the things they really hated and it stunned her how often their opinions were the same. But she loved it more when they felt differently. No one had ever argued with her like he could. The banter between them was more fun than she'd ever imagined just talking could be. He was never condescending or superior. And at times when he let his ever-inflating ego get out of hand, she always knew just what to say to bring him back to earth just hard enough to sting, but not hurt.

He was the most fun she'd ever had. Anywhere - the precinct, the morgue, a crime scene or a funeral parlor, it was a playground to him. She marveled at the fact that he could be so wise, so worldly one minute and the very next he was innocent, sometimes almost to the point of naivety.

But then again, she marveled at nearly everything about him. She was marveling at him long before she ever met him. He was a friend to her long before he'd ever showed up at her station. Before he was Richard Castle to her, he was Derrick Storm. And she fell in love with Derrick Storm the moment she met him.

There was so much of Castle in the character. And now Jameson Rook occupied another part of her heart. The character was perfect. Just like its creator. Somehow, she had become the luckiest woman in the world. She had her three fantasy men all built into one. Castle, Derrick Storm and Jameson Rook, three very different men, yet all the same. It was her trifecta. Funny, warm and entertaining Castle, strong, gruff, rugged, Derrick Storm, and charming, tempting, and intelligent Jameson Rook. It was all there. Custom made just for her.

God she was so in love with this man. And she had absolutely no idea what to do about it.

She wasn't an idiot. She knew she had to do something. She might seem rough and gruff on the outside, but there was an inner romantic in her that said, ' This is it. He's the one you've been waiting on for so long.' At first she hadn't dared dream it was possible. Richard Castle – one of her fantasies come to life – was her one and done ? When did that happen in real life ? In what universe did fairy tales like that really exist ? The object of some of her college girl fantasies had literally walked off his dust cover and landed in her interrogation room. It had been one of the most exciting nights of her life. She wanted to ask for his autograph.

At first she was disappointed, so disappointed. He wasn't Derrick Storm. He wasn't the man she thought he'd be. He was a lie. An imposter. An imposing, reckless, careless, smug, egotistical, masochistic, imposter.

By the time they were halfway through their first case together, she was changing her opinion, altering her perception. By their first anniversary of working together, she was considering him an important part of her team. By their second, he was her partner, wholly and completely. She couldn't imagine doing her job without him anymore. By the third, he was her soul mate. She was almost certain of it now. Or she would be, if she knew he felt the same way.

But he was always so cautious, so careful where this was concerned. He had carefully constructed a line, one that was somehow perfect for her before, offering just enough companionship without being inappropriate. It was the friendship line. No, more than that, the best friend line.

Maybe it was true, maybe men and women really couldn't just be friends, not friends like that. Ones that knew everything there was to know about you. Friends that would move the earth to help you, that had your back, no matter what. Friends that you connected to on a level so deep and intense it was scary how close you were. When a connection like that happened between two sexually compatible people, there was no containing it just to friendship. It wasn't possible.

She completely understood now that there was very little she wouldn't do to keep Richard Castle in her life, few sacrifices she wouldn't make. That terrified her too. She had never, ever really expected to feel as much for another person as she felt for him. Her happiness had somehow become entwined in his. She wanted to give him everything, to be everything he needed.

Frankly, whenever he was around, she felt fucking needy and she hated that about herself. She needed his attention, his affection, his warmth. No one in the world made her feel as special as he did. And she had become so addicted to the feeling that now she craved it.

It had taken her three years to come to the conclusion that Richard Castle was the one man in the world she simply didn't want to live without. And she had no idea how to let him know that.

She thought about just coming right out with it. She imagined them at the station one night, just the two of them left, pouring over the murder board, heads together as they worked out a theory that was so preposterous it couldn't possibly be true. Then she would just come out with it. Instead of saying goodnight when they both threw in the towel and headed home, she would say ' I love you'. She could almost imagine the look on his face when at first he didn't really hear her, assuming he already knew what she was about to say, then the look of absolute shock and wonder in his eyes when her words caught up to him. What would he say in return ? Would he confess that he loved her, too ? Would he get that furrow between his brow that said he was seriously worried about something and launch into the speech about how he didn't want to risk their friendship by pushing boundaries like that ? Or would he just mumble a goodnight in return and walk away, pretending like he hadn't heard her admission ?

The uncertainty was killing her. She couldn't afford to be unsure about his response. There was too much at stake for her not to know how it would end before she took a chance.

Lanie had already told her that she was being ridiculous. Everyone had told her that, in fact. Everyone seemed to be certain about his feelings for her, except her, of course.

She had taken to watching him a little more closely recently, looking for any sign that they might be right. But all she found was silly flirting and carefully constructed banter. Nothing solid to base a real judgment on. Apparently, if Rick Castle was as in love with her as everyone believed him to be, he had an excellent poker face, at least where she was concerned.

She thought several times about calling Alexis and asking her opinion on the matter. After all, she would ultimately be affected by anything that happened between Kate and her father. But that just made Kate feel like she was using the girl, pumping her for information.

She could call her and ask her out to lunch. She liked spending time with mini-Castle. She was a wonderful, warm, funny, smart, young woman. That was the problem with her plan, actually. Alexis was smart. Kate was certain she'd see right through her if the subject of her father came up between them. But would it be a bad thing ? Would Alexis mind giving her a little insight into the mind of Rick Castle ? After all, Alexis was the authority. No one in the world knew him like she did. If he was hiding something, some unrequited feelings for Kate, Alexis would know. But would she tell Kate about it?

The phone trilled on the corner of her desk, drawing her out of her inner ponderings and making her realize that she had been at work nearly two hours and hadn't accomplished a damned thing.

She snatched it up and gave a little start at Alexis' picture smiling at her from the screen. Apparently the entire Castle clan had some kind of sixth sense where she was concerned. What could mini-Castle possibly want with her ?

She accepted the call and brought the phone to her ear. " Good Morning, Sweetie. What's up ?" She asked cheerfully.

" I was just calling to let you know that Dad isn't coming in today. I'm forbidding him from leaving the apartment." Alexis announced with a firmness to her voice that said ' Dad' was listening close by.

Kate couldn't help her chuckle. " What did he do to deserve to be grounded ?"

" He's sick. He just won't admit it yet." Alexis answered. " So I'm putting him to bed with some medicine and some soup and I'm heading to school. If he sneaks out and shows up there, send him right back home and call me."

Kate laughed again. " Will do. There isn't really anything happening here anyway, except paperwork. Maybe I'll come by and keep him company for awhile. He isn't contagious is he ?"

" I don't think so. He is running a temperature, but I think he'll be alright. He just needs to rest."

" But I'm fine." She heard the man in question whine in the background and she laughed again. The nasal, hoarseness to his voice said otherwise.

" Oh no." Kate gasped in mock seriousness. " Don't tell me, it's the ' man cold'."

Alexis sighed dramatically. " I'm afraid so. And it's only going to get worse."

" Well, then tell him to go to bed and I'll be over to check on him in a little while." Kate answered.

" I will. Thank you. I was worried about leaving him here all by himself today." she replied before saying goodbye.

It was the sweetest, most heartwarming thing, how much they cared about each other. Parents and children were never that close anymore.

The large, round clock on the wall told her it was coming up on eleven by the time she finished up the last of the reports from their latest case. Normally, with Castle there to help her, it didn't take so long to wrap up all the lose ends. The fact that he stuck around for the boring parts had surprised her at first. But she found him sitting in his chair, watching her work so often, that eventually she'd given him a pen and made him help. Now it was a breeze. Paperwork was halved between them most days. She thought, at first, there might be some objection to her method. After all, Castle wasn't a cop, despite what he believed. No one had offered the least bit of protest about it though. She wondered how long it would take the city to give the man a badge. That was the next logical step. That and a gun. God help the city of New York.

She only made two stops on her way to Castle's apartment. One for coffee, the other for take out. It was about time she returned the favor for all the times he showed up with both without her asking.

Standing outside his door, she thought about pressing the buzzer and announcing herself. But then she was afraid she might wake him if he was sleeping and she didn't want to make him get up to answer the door if he really was sick. So she used her key. The one he'd given her months before, just in case. She'd asked him what she would possibly need with his key and that's what he'd told her, ' just in case'.

She closed the door behind her quietly and tiptoed to the kitchen to unburden herself from the bag she was carrying. Then she slipped off her jacket and draped it over one of the dining room chairs before starting a room by room search for him.

Nothing stirred in the huge apartment. There was no sound coming from anywhere. The living room was empty, as were the kitchen and his office.

As she moved down the hall, past the room she'd occupied after her apartment blew up, she realized that she had never gone all the way to the end. His bedroom door was

mostly closed, but not latched shut, so she eased it opened as quietly as possible and peered inside.

Darkness met her, that and the ragged sound of his breathing. He sounded awful, raspy and congested. She took a few more steps, following the sound as she went, completely unfamiliar with the darkened room. Finally her eyes adjusted to the dimness and she found herself standing at the side of his bed, looking at his sleeping face which was illuminated by a single shaft of light poking through the dark curtains that covered the windows.

He looked so miserable. Mouth opened as he drew in breath because obviously breathing through his nose was impossible. Yet somehow she'd never seen him more peaceful, more childlike. His hair was tousled and sticking to his obviously clammy forehead. His chest was bare and from the smell coming from him she imagined it was covered in Vick's vapor rub. The Mentholatum in the air nearly knocked her over with its intensity. One of his hands was resting negligently across his waist. The other, fisted around a balled up tissue, was posed on the pillow next to his head. The cranberry colored sheet was draped low over his hips and several blankets were in a heap at his side as if he'd tossed them off in his sleep.

She reached out, unable to stop herself and let the back of her knuckles graze over his cheek.

He felt like he was burning up. His head shifted and his cheek pushed into her touch just as his eyes began to blink open.

" Kate ?" He whispered. " What are you doing here ?" He barely got the words out before a coughing fit racked his body. He quickly spun to his side and covered his mouth with the hand holding the tissue. The sheet slide ever further from his body. Castle didn't seem to notice how dangerously low on his hips it was now. She could make out the dimple in his flesh where his pelvic bone met his torso. It was unnerving and she felt so guilty for staring that she almost bolted from the room without saying a word.

But she knew that would only make it worse. He was too miserable to realize his state of undress anyway. Maybe he hadn't notice her attention.

" I came to see if you were alright. Alexis didn't tell you I'd be by ?" she asked, touching his check again when he once again settled back to his pillow.

" She might have mentioned it. To be honest, I really don't remember, what with the being preoccupied with dying and all." he confessed still so hoarse she could barely hear him.  
>She almost laughed. Richard Castle had very nearly lost his voice. What would he do with himself ?<p>

" You aren't dying." she assured him and he gave her a doubtful look in return. " I brought Chinese and coffee. I'll be back. You just lay there."

He raised a hand lamely and let it drop back to his side. " Not a problem." he answered as he watched her leave.

His voice was a little better after the coffee. But he barely touched his food.

" I can't taste it." he protested when she called him on it.

" You don't have to enjoy it. You just need to eat it. 'Feed a cold and starve a fever'." she told him.

He cleared his throat and took a drink of his coffee. Then he held up one finger and gave her the look. The one she knew so well. He was about to enlighten her. " The adage is actually, 'starve a fever, feed a cold'. The phrase originated from Chaucer in the Canterbury Tales. It actually translates as feed a cold, die of fever. It wasn't medical devise, it was a cautionary tale." He paused to take another drink of coffee and Kate watched him contently. She had grown to love watching his mind working. " See," he continued, " It meant if you eat when your sick, you'll die of fever. But take into account that these people also believed bathing would make you sick, so," he shrugged. " You know."

" You sound better." she commented after he ended his oration.

He stretched and pushed the tray she had arranged for him a little further away. " I feel a little better. Maybe...-" He glanced at her from under a veil of bangs as if he were suddenly shy. " Maybe it's the company."

Her pulse jumped into her throat and she swallowed hard against it. There was something very intimate about what was going on between them. Here she was, sitting on the foot of his bed, less than two feet from him. In fact, his feet were nestled against the outside of her leg. She could feel them through the blanket that now covered him. When she returned with the trays, she found, a little to her dismay, that he had gotten up and found a ragged pair of shorts and a t-shirt to cover himself with, making him more presentable to company, yet causing her disappointment over the fact that the expanse of his muscular chest had been taken from her view. Still it was a form fitting shirt and she could make out the ripples of his muscles every time he moved. The only lighting in the room came from a lamp sitting on a table by the bed. His eyes were hurting so she hadn't opened the curtains and let in any sunlight. And he just looked so needy and vulnerable. His face was flushed with the fever she knew he still had. His eyes were cloudy and watering, puffy and red and the palest blue she'd ever seen them. His normally perfectly pink, moist lips were pale, cracked and dry. His nose was bright red from where he'd been rubbing it constantly with a seemingly endless supply of tissues from a box he had hidden somewhere in the enormous bed.

He was a mess. A complete mess.

Then something else struck her and she didn't know exactly how to deal with the information once her brain processed it. The man in front of her, for the first time ever, was just Rick, at his purest, most basic form. He didn't have the energy or the will to hold up any of the well maintained masks people normally wore around others. He wasn't in the right frame of mind to worry about ulterior motives or hidden agendas. He was just himself in his most natural, uncontaminated form.

He started coughing again, his strong, broad shoulders trembling with the effort and she glanced at the clock sitting by the lamp on the table. She was surprised to see that she had been there for nearly two hours.

Gathering herself, she made to stand, but he sat up and stopped her with a hand on her arm. " Don't go." he said, between coughs. " Please."

She gave him a heavy sigh in answer and settled back down. " If you get me sick, I'm going to shoot you. For real this time." she teased. " I hate being sick."

He gave her a watery smile. " I'll bet you're the cutest thing when you're sick."

She smacked at his feet. " No, I'm the most irritable, unreasonable, asshole that you've ever met, when I'm sick. So watch it. And know that I fully expect you to put up with me through it all, just like I'm putting up with you."

He chuckled. " I'm not that bad."

She dipped her head in agreement. " No, actually you aren't. I came here expecting to find a drama king on his throne."

His laugh this time started out as a that but ended in another cough. " No, that comes later. Right now I'm too sick to care. Tomorrow when I just don't feel good, then there will be drama."

" Reminded me to stay at work tomorrow then." she joked.

His smile seemed to melt from his features and his eyes turned suddenly serious. " Thank you for coming over. You didn't have to."

She shrugged trying to brush off the seriousness of the moment. It was still something fairly new for them, this being friends outside of work thing. And she was happier to just let these moments happen and not talk about them. " You're welcome. We were dead at work anyway. No pun intended."

He mustered a smile at her joke.

" But I think maybe I should let you get some sleep. You look exhausted." she told him. " And it's time for more medicine."

She left to retrieve the bottle of thick green liquid before he could protest.

He took the small cup from her and downed it in one gulp before making a face. " That's terrible."

" Yes, but it will make you feel better." she answered.

" Doesn't it come in cherry flavor or maybe even grape ? Anything would be better than that." he continued as he settled back into bed.

" No, its medicine for adults. Surprisingly, they figure most adults can take it like a man." she jibed.

" I'm a man." he protested weakly.

" Of course you are." she replied as she tucked the blankets around him and brushed back the hair from his forehead.

He looked up at her with a wicked smile on his face. " Alexis rubbed some really smelly stuff on my chest before she went to school, but I can't smell it anymore."

She almost, on instinct, told him that he could rub it on his own chest. Then her fingertips started to tingle at just the thought of doing it herself and she closed her mouth before the words could escape. Sometimes her mouth did not work with her best interest at heart.

She tried to take a subtle, deep breath before rolling her eyes at him. " Take off your shirt." she demanded as she reached for the jar of vapor rub.

He blinked at her in utter shock. " No way!" he whispered in awe as she sat down at his side. He simply didn't believe that she was really about to do what he'd suggested she do.

" Yes way. But the offer only stands for a few minutes. So hurry up and get out of that shirt." she answered trying to hide her smile at his reaction. She knew she was crossing into some very dangerous territory here, but then again, when would she ever have another chance to run her hands over his chest in what was disguised as purely something innocent ? There was simply no way she could pass this up. It was too good to be true.

He quickly sat up and yanked the shirt over his head, of course, getting it tangled on the way and making her have to assist him in the end. " You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say those exact words to me." He told her when he laid back down and put his hands to his sides.

" I'll bet Vick's vapor rub wasn't part of your fantasy." She replied as she loosened the lid and set it aside.

" No, but there was oil, so it's close." he returned just like she'd expected him to.

They needed the humor right then. She needed it as a way to keep her distance from the situation. He seemed to understand and went right along with her, reading her like he always did.

The minute her fingers began to glide over his supple, tanned, muscles she knew she made a mistake. There was no amount of humor in the world that could lighten the situation now. Touching him was everything she expected it to be and she knew there was no way he couldn't feel it, too. It was electric, like tiny sparks dancing between his bare skin and the palm of her hand. A glance at his face proved that she was right. The look on his face wasn't needy or vulnerable now. He was watching her hands move over him with such rapt attention and unmasked hunger she almost gasped out loud.

Noticing her reaction, he quickly slid the vulnerable, weak mask back in place and dropped his head to the pillow. She could almost hear him hoping she hadn't noticed his look. But she had and now she wasn't sure she could pretend she hadn't.

She had been looking for proof that he wanted more between them, really wanted it and he'd just given it to her. He wanted her as much as she wanted him and know she knew it for sure.

She wasn't sure what she should do with the information though. She decided for the moment it would be best to be done with her task and take her hands off him before she lost the will to do it.

Finishing, she got up and stepped into his private bathroom to wash her hands. When she returned, his eyes were so drowsy they were mere slits of blue on his relaxed, sleepy face.

" Will you be here when I wake up ?" he slurred as he rolled to his side and tucked his hands together under his chin.

She stepped to him and moved the blankets up over his shoulders before turning off the lamp. " Do you want me to be here when you wake up ?"

" Of course." he replied dreamily.

" Then yes, I'll be here."

He was asleep before she made it to the bedroom door.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N : Those who know me know that I really hate these. I feel like they break up the story and impose reality on the world of fantasy we are trying to create. But I did want to take a minute to say thank you to everyone that showed interest in this story. I got so many favorites and story alert hits, I was a little shocked. So thank you. I also wanted to say thank you to Ariel119 for patiently putting up with my love of the run on sentense and devotion to improper grammer. She's the been the best beta ever. And as always, I live to hear what you think and reviews feed the muse. So don't forget the little button at the bottom of the page.**

He honestly couldn't remember the last time he had felt as bad as he did right then. His head pounded, had been pounding so loud and for so long it made him nauseous. His entire body ached, every joint, every muscle, just plain everything, hurt. He didn't even want to discuss his chest. But he quickly figured out upon waking that breathing deeply was not an option. So it was with quick, shallow gasps that he stumbled out of bed.

He stopped for a moment to glance around in search of Kate. She said she would be here when he woke up, yet she was nowhere in sight and he couldn't help but feel disappointed. Maybe she had caught a case. He couldn't fault her for having to work. Or maybe she had just gotten bored with watching him sleep.

After a quick trip to the bathroom, he paused at the bed long enough to draw a heavy blanket around his shoulders to fight off the shivering in his bones and took off on a quest for a much needed glass of juice. His mouth was as dry as the Sahara. He needed fluids.

He was very proud of the fact that he only stopped once in the hallway to lean against the wall for a moment to catch his breath. The journey to the kitchen felt endless, each step taking more energy than he thought he could muster. God, how he hated being sick!

"What are you doing out of bed?" Kate demanded as she noticed him come into view from over his daughter's shoulder.

"Dad!" Alexis scolded him while quickly getting to her feet and helping him to one of the bar stools.

"You shouldn't be up. Why didn't you just call for one of us?"

He opened his mouth to tell her that he was fine, but no sound came out. He clutched at his throat, shocked by his lack of ability to make any noise whatsoever. It was gone. His voice was completely gone.

He watched as Kate did everything in her power to suppress the smile forming on her lips. But he understood. This was a dream come true for her. Now she could tease him mercilessly and there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn't even shout ' Apples'. He imagined she'd been dreaming of this moment since the day they met.

Seeing his eyes narrowing in her direction, she held up her hands in mock innocence. "I didn't say a word. Not a word."

Not yet, he thought warily. She apparently read the thought straight from his mind because the smile fell from her face and she tilted her head in what appeared to be sympathy.

"Come on now. Give me some credit. Do you really believe that I would take advantage of your misery like that?" she asked him.

He shook his head enthusiastically.

"Why are you out of bed?"she casually changed the subject. "Did you need something or were you just feeling lonely?"

He grabbed his throat again and gave her the saddest eyes he could muster.

"Your throat hurts?" she questioned. "Would you like something to drink?"

He nodded and gave her a triumphant smile.

She laughed at him and to his chagrin, Alexis, his own flesh and blood, joined her in taunting him.

"I'll get him a glass of water and put some water on for tea." Alexis suggested. "You get him back to bed."

Beckett nodded in agreement and took hold of his arm to haul him to his feet.

Once they were mobile, she wrapped her arm around his shoulder so he could lean on her as they moved along. It was a slow progression. It really was taking every bit of concentration he had to focus on picking his feet up.

He grabbed her hand once she had him settled back in bed and he mouthed the words 'thank you' to her.

She nodded and gave him a soft smile. "Not a problem. Now open up." She was holding out a digital thermometer and he opened his mouth and let her slide it under his tongue.

Keeping his mouth closed was torture. He was grateful when the thing finally beeped and she pulled it from his lips.

The look on her face as she read the results was not a happy one and for a moment he wondered if maybe he'd been right early. Maybe he really was going to die.

Alexis entered the room and they huddled by the door speaking in hushed tones that he wasn't supposed to hear. But he clearly got a couple - those being 'hospital' and 'pneumonia'.

He tried to raise up to tell them they were both wrong. He didn't need a hospital and he definitely did not have pneumonia. But his strength failed him and he fell back to the mattress heavily. Maybe they were right. He had just recently spent an inordinate amount of time in a freezer.

His mind vividly conjured up the memory of him waking in the back of an ambulance and searching for Beckett to see if she was alright.

He shook his head, hoping to clear it away. It wasn't a memory he ever wanted to recall. The thought that she hadn't made it had nearly paralyzed him with fear. For a brief moment in time, he'd had to imagine his life without her in it and just the thought had brought him to his knees.

Things seemed very blurry all of a sudden. Time and place became a distant, unimportant thing. All he knew was that he had to see for himself that she was safe and whole.

He opened his eyes and found her looking down at him with a warm, comforting smile and a straw posed at his lips, a lifeline full of the most delicious water he had ever tasted. The minute the liquid hit his tongue he sighed in pure pleasure. He had never been so thirsty.

He nearly drained the contents of the glass before she pulled it away and set it aside.

Her hand fell to his forehead and she smoothed the hair from his face.

His throat made a croaking noise that was supposed to be her name and the coughing started again. His entire body shook with the intensity of the attack. He sat up and leaned forward as the fit continued and he felt her hand resting on his back, lending him whatever comfort she could.

"I think you need to see a doctor." she whispered when he finally quieted.

He knew what she was going to say next and he braced himself for it, knowing it was going to sting.

"I'm going to call Josh and have him come over."she told him.

Yep, that was what he was expecting her to say.

He nodded his consent because really he had no way to argue with her. He was at her mercy.

He had no idea how long she was gone. Alexis came and helped him sit up to drink a cup of steaming tea with honey and some kind of herb in it. It wasn't horrible and it really had helped to sooth his aching throat.

Once he was done, his daughter had laid him back down and tucked the blankets in around him before turning off his light and tiptoeing from the room.

The next time he awoke, it was Kate that disturbed him, shaking his shoulder and whispering his name quietly.

Once she saw that he was awake, she gestured over her shoulder. And Rick tried not to grimace as the face of her handsome, motorcycle-driving, oh-so-cool boyfriend came into view.

She left them alone together and Dr. Motorcycle Boy poked and prodded him until Castle was ready to hit him. He just wanted to be left alone to suffer and die in peace. He was absolutely, one hundred percent certain that that was exactly what was happening. He was dying. And he was spending his last few moments on Earth with Kate's perfect boyfriend. Now that was irony.

Finally the good doctor finished his torture and started for the door. It opened before he got to it and Kate stepped inside.

Castle watched through heavy-lidded eyes as the two just stood there awkwardly staring at each other. Something was going on that Castle was not privy to. He didn't understand the body language. Last he'd heard (well actually - much to his torment - seen), Kate and Dr. Feelgood were getting along fine. When had fine grown into awkward and what had happened to cause the rift?

He desperately wished he had the energy it would take to find out what was going on. His natural curiosity was eating him alive. But his body failed him and before they said a word to each other, he had drifted off again.

She had no idea what she was supposed to say to the man standing there in front of her. Was she supposed to apologize for calling him? When they parted ways a couple of weeks before, he told her to call if she ever needed anything. But this felt weird now. She didn't even fully understand why it felt weird. Castle was her friend, her partner and apparently, from the look on Josh's face, it was a good thing she'd called him. Obviously her worry was not unfounded.

"It sounds like bronchitis to me. I'll prescribe some antibiotics for that and it looks like tonsillitis and a double ear infection."Josh announced in a hushed voice that wouldn't disturb his patient. "But I think he'll be fine here with the three of you taking care of him. There's no need to send him to the hospital."

"Oh.."she stammered, caught off guard by his assumption. "I'm not staying here. I just came by to check on him and saw how bad he was."

He held up his hand to stop her. "You don't have to explain anything to me. It isn't my business anymore."

She stopped talking and swallowed hard. "Thank you for coming. I know it's a little weird."

"Why would it be weird, Kate?"he asked.

"Well, you know, what with us and the break-up and everything..."she let her voice trail off as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

He tossed his hands to his sides and shrugged. "You said that Richard Castle had nothing to do with us breaking up. I guess neither of us really believed that though."

Her eyes fell to her feet as she avoided looking at his face. "I'm sorry."she mumbled.

"Don't be sorry."he told her and he really did sound sincere. "We love who we love. Sometimes we aren't given a choice."

"Wow,"she whispered. "I really wish I could be that healthy."

He took a step closer to her and reached a hand up to her shoulder. "You're healthier than you give yourself credit for. You'll be alright. Him, on the other hand, he needs rest, fluids and a prescription."

"But no hospital?" she ventured, so relieved to hear that Rick was going to be okay that the weirdness between them suddenly didn't matter anymore. He knew how she felt. She knew how she felt. It was pointless to deny it now. She allowed herself the freedom to show just how relieved she was. Her shoulders sagged and she took a deep calming breath.

"No hospital. I think three adoring nurses ought to be fine. He'll be good as new before you know it." he reassured her. "And if not, you know my number. Call me day or night."

"Really?"she replied.

"Yes, really." he nodded.

She wrapped her arms around him in a friendly hug and her eyes fell to the bed where Rick was sleeping. Well, actually he was drowsily blinking at her. She couldn't help but smile as she watched him drifting to sleep.

"Thank you." she told Josh once again before closing the door behind him.

"So, Richard is going to be okay ?" Martha asked as she paced into the room.

Kate nodded, catching Alexis' eye as well. "Josh says he'll be fine. He's calling in some antibiotics and he needs rest and fluids. But he's going to be okay."

Both women breathed a collective sigh of relief before going about their separate ways in the large penthouse.

Kate settled in on one of the kitchen bar stools to wait for the pharmacy to arrive.

Rick heard himself make a noise that might have been a groan on a better day as he attempted to shift into a more comfortable position. He didn't really hold out much hope of finding one, but he needed to make the effort. His left arm was numb from where he'd been laying on it.

His gaze found the window and he saw that the sun had finally gone down, meaning it was well into evening, if not night time. Again he had lost all track of time as he danced in and out of consciousness. His eyes felt heavy as he blinked them towards the digital clock on the table. It read twelve.

Then his eyes found the doorway and he immediately shut them as the image of Kate wrapping her arms around her perfect doctor and smiling like she was the happiest woman in the world came flooding back to him. It was the last thing he remembered seeing before the haze of medicine had over taken him.

He was just returning to the bed from a quick trip to the bathroom when the bedroom door opened and Alexis poked her head inside.

"I was just checking on you before I head to bed." she said as she stepped inside.

He nodded and gave her the warmest smile he could muster.

She came to his side and tugged and folded at the sheet for a moment until she was satisfied that it was straight. "Do you need something to drink?"she asked.

He nodded again. Again, he was just so thirsty. "I wonder if Kate needs anything?" she commented as she turned her attention to the far corner of the bedroom. "Do you think I should wake her up to ask?"

"I'm okay." Kate's voice called out from what Castle had assumed was a pile of blankets laying over a chair.

Castle's eyebrow shoot to his hairline and he looked at Alexis in shock.

Alexis just shrugged. "I offered her the guest room. But she refused."

" I wanted to be close in case you needed anything." the voice called again as the blankets moved aside to reveal its owner. "You can go on to bed, Sweetheart. I'll get him a glass of juice and his medicine."

"Okay. But I'm right upstairs if you need me."she answered. Then she bent towards him as if she were about to kiss him.

Rick jerked away from her with more speed than he thought he was capable of.

"What?"she asked, looking at him like she was insane.

He covered his mouth with his hand and used the other hand to shoo her away. The last thing he wanted was to get her sick. He couldn't stand the thought of his baby going through the misery he was dealing with.

She leaned in again, quicker this time and managed to brush her lips against his forehead before he had a chance to move. "I would rather get sick than go to bed without my goodnight kiss. Besides, Dr. Josh said it was unlikely that we would catch what you have anyway." She smiled at him in triumph before darting out of the room.

Kate followed along behind her, returning a few minutes later with a pill bottle in one hand and a refreshing looking glass of orange juice in the other.

She popped the top on the bottle and shook out a pill into his hand. Then she produced another bottle, this one containing liquid, from her pocket and proceed to fill a small measuring cup with it's contents.

He downed everything quickly, including the glass of juice.

He was just snuggling back into his blankets when Kate started to flipped the light out.

He grabbed her wrist a moment before she had a chance.

She gave him a questioning look. "Do you need something else?"

He hesitated, not sure what she would think of what he was about to suggest. Then he decided he was too exhausted to play with her. He would offer. He really hated the thought of her sleeping in a chair for his sake. He would offer and if she turned him down, she turned him down. No big deal.

He glanced to the side of the bed he wasn't occupying and patted it with his hand.

Her eyes widened for a moment before she brought her face back under control. "I think I'm better off in my chair. It's probably safer there."

He wondered for a moment what she meant by that before deciding that she was just trying not to get sick as well. That had to be what she meant by 'safer'.

He hadn't planned on arguing the point, but the more he thought about it, the more he really wanted her beside him. He might, if he was extremely lucky, even get to wake up with her in his arms. He had no idea why he wanted to torture himself like that, knowing that in the morning she would leave him and go back to her perfect doctor. But he also knew that he was willing to deal with tomorrow for a chance to hold her tonight.

He patted the bed again and gave her a pout.

She didn't answer him at first. There was no immediate jump to reject like he expected. She hesitated. He imagined it was because the thought of sharing his bed tempted her as much as it did him. He guessed that it was more because she really didn't want to sleep in the chair. Whatever the reason, the hesitation occurred and he jumped on it.

Sitting up as quickly as he was able, he reached into the night stand drawer and pulled out the tablet and pen he kept there. Inspiration was apt to strike him anytime and anywhere. He tried to have a paper and pen handy wherever he was. The pen scratched across the page as he scribbled his message and handed her the tablet.

_Please don't sleep in a chair on my account. I promise I won't bite._

When she finished reading she glanced at him and he gave her his best innocent smile. He was trying for harmless. She could kick his ass on his best day, what threat could he possibly pose feeling like this?

He must have hit his mark because she sighed, rolled her eyes and crossed to the other side of the bed.

"Alexis is going to come in here in the morning to check on you and find me in your bed." She complained.

He grabbed at the material of his t-shirt before doing the same to hers and wiggled his eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes again, clearly understanding exactly what he was trying to tell her. ' At least we'll be dressed.'

They both found a comfortable position and somehow that had ended with them laying facing each other and way closer than he thought they should be.

She eased away from him, slowly, like maybe he wouldn't notice. He noticed, alright. He wasn't so sick that finding her face inches away from his, feeling her breath brushing across his cheek and the warmth of her body down the entire length of him would be things he didn't notice. He would have noticed those things if he were in a coma.

"Are you feeling any better?"she asked him finally when too much time passed with them just staring at each other.

He raised his shoulder in a shrug. He was actually feeling a little better. He didn't ache quite so badly and the shivering was almost under control now. He had even managed to swallow a couple of times without the searing pain that had previously caused.

"I'm sorry you got sick."she mumbled quietly.

He pointed at her and shook his head no. Then he pointed at himself and nodded yes.

She smiled, again completely understanding him. _Better me than you._

"You're probably right. I really am a horrible sick person," She agreed.

A sudden thought occurred to him and he sat up, reached for his bedside alarm clock and looked at her expectantly.

She shook her head. "I don't need an alarm. I'm off tomorrow and the next day. Hopefully, I'm not going anywhere until you're better."

He couldn't make himself move for a minute. He was suddenly dumbstruck by her. Why would she do that? Why would she spend a rare two days in a row off taking care of him?

Finally he shook himself, set the alarm clock back down and turned to find her smiling at him.

He held up his hands. _What's so funny?_

"I was just thinking that this was kind of fun, you not being able to talk. It's kind of like playing with a chimp."she teased.

He smirked and nodded at her. He had wondered how long it would take her to tease him about not being able to talk. He could play along. He scratched his head and his side at the same time, mimicking a monkey.

Not able to figure out how to ask her what he wanted to know without words, he grabbed the notepad again and began to scribble. Then he handed it to her.

_Is Josh okay with you staying here with me until I feel better?_

Her face fell as she read and she didn't answer for a while

"Josh and I aren't together anymore."she told him finally.

He blinked at her in surprise and mouthed the words, _since when?_

"About two weeks ago."

He looked to the door and picked up the bottle of pills from the table that had Josh's name on it.

She nodded and gave him a soft smile. "We're still friends. He told me to call him if I need anything. So I did."

He pointed to his chest.

"Yes, for you."

He was touched. It couldn't have been easy for her, yet she'd done it just for him.

He didn't know what was in the medicine she had given him, but something in it was making him incredibly sleepy. He settled back into the bed, again, on his side, facing her. This time the distance between them was a comfortable space, not too far or too close.

She reached a hesitant hand up and brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead, allowing her knuckles to brush across his skin as she did.

"You don't feel as warm anymore," She commented quietly.

He nodded in agreement and again mouthed the words _thank you._

She punched at his shoulder lightly. "Would you stop? I already told you, it's not a problem. I'm glad I had the time off to be able to help. Tomorrow I'll make you waffles for breakfast and we can spend the day watching all your favorite movies."

He raised his eyebrows at her and smiled.

"Yes, really. Whatever you want," She replied.

He snuggled down into the blankets and folded his hands under his chin. That sounded perfect to him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Again another huge thanks for all the response. And I also wanted to say thanks again to Ariel119 for the help. She actually named this story so props to her for that as well. **

God, she was hot. She couldn't figure out why but she could feel the sweat running a straight line down her back. It was like there was a furnace blowing straight on her. She shifted and almost panicked at the weight resting heavily across her waist, holding her tightly in place. Then her mind caught up and she understood what it was holding her down and causing the _Heat Wave_. She almost laughed out loud at her own pun.

She might have been surprised to find herself waking up in his arms if she hadn't been expecting it. She knew it was going to happen the minute she slipped into bed beside him. How could it not?

She was surprised to find that this was all happening so naturally, this closeness that was developing between them. It hadn't come out of nowhere, hadn't hit all at once. Instead it just seemed to drift down over them like a blanket. One day touching him hadn't been so routine and the next day it had. Just like that, no big deal, no big drama. The familiarity was so easy, so almost innate that she hadn't even noticed it at first. She just knew him. He just knew her. They didn't even have to try at it.

She shifted again, this time drawing herself further down into his embrace. His arm tightened on her waist like he was afraid she was about to run away. Under normal circumstances, she would have. But now, after all the thoughts that had been bombarding her in the last few days, she had no intention of moving until it became absolutely necessary.

Still a part of her was screaming about how wrong all this was. It was the part of her that managed to mess up every descent relationship she'd ever had. This time it was reminding her that things this wonderful couldn't possibly last. It was too good to be true. Something was going to come along and screw this up.

She managed to ignore the voice for the time being and let her hand find his where it was resting on her stomach. She laced her fingers through his much larger ones, letting him know that she wasn't leaving.

Even in his sleep, he seemed to understand and he relaxed his hold on her just a little in response.

She sighed as his breath brushed across the back of her neck. Her hair was tucked under her leaving the nape of her neck bare. And while she knew he wasn't doing it on purpose, what he was doing to her was almost making her squirm. He was driving her completely crazy and he wasn't even aware of it. She could tell he was still sleeping by the regular, deep pattern of his breathing.

She nearly jumped off the bed when his lips suddenly touched her neck and his hoarse, raspy voice whispered, "Kate."

It startled her even more because it wasn't what she had been anticipating. She really, secret hoped to hear him say her name in his sleep. Doesn't every woman want to believe that the man they love dreams about them? It was the way he said it that surprised her. She guessed it was a testament to where her own mind had been that she thought it would sound more like a groan or maybe even a moan. But it didn't. It was just her name. Simple – Kate. There was no inflection, no way for her to know in what context he said it.

Every instinct in her body was screaming at her, begging her to turn around so she could see his face. But she fought them all, afraid that she would wake him with the movement. The one thing she did know was that he was obviously feeling at least a little better. He had something of a voice now anyway. She was a little disappointed despite herself. She had really been enjoying the little game of charades they'd been playing. And she loved that she always knew exactly what he was trying to tell her.

A sound at the door drew her attention. She knew what it was without looking. It was Alexis coming to check on her father before going to school. Kate wanted to bolt upright, to find a way to untangle herself from him before she got close enough to the bed to catch them in their decidedly compromised position. But there was no way she could without waking him up. So she froze, closing her eyes tightly and pretending to still be asleep.

She heard her move to the side of the bed, then came a startled little gasp and Kate realized that she had been wrong. It was actually Martha standing over them, watching them sleep.

Somehow she was a little less embarrassed by that.

Then next thing she heard was the sound of retreating footsteps, then the door closing behind her.

"I really hope she recovers from her shock." a gruff voice said against her skin. "I would hate it if I were responsible for my mother's heart attack."

"How did you know I was awake?"she asked. Neither of them had moved out of the other's arms.

"You told me once that you were a light sleeper." He answered like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to remember things about her that she had mentioned once, in passing.

"You sound better."she replied.

He nodded. "I feel better."

"Good."she smiled. "Are you ready for waffles?"

He chuckled. "Are you sure you want to go face the Inquisition alone?"

A rush of blood hit her cheeks as she thought about Martha and Alexis sitting in the kitchen discussing them. She knew it was happening. It was a given fact. Of course they were being discussed, especially after being discovered wrapped around each other the way they had.

"I think I can handle it." She paused before sliding away from him. "Unless you feel up to coming along? You can watch me cook. I'll even make you coffee."

He rolled away from her and laughed. "I wasn't planning on sending you out there alone. Of course I'm coming."

She got out of bed and stretched. He was just getting to his feet and doing the same.

Then, as if in perfect synchronicity, they both had the same thought, each of them took off in a dash to see who could make it to the bathroom door quickest.

Kate won. She was sure he let her. He was, after all, on the side of the bed closest to it. It didn't make her smile any less smug as she shut the door on him.

She was, however, courteous to make it a quick trip, figuring a shower could wait until after breakfast.

He was leaning against the wall on the other side of the door, arm's crossed over his chest and looking expectant when she opened the door and stepped out.

"Don't look at me like that."she chided. "I beat you, far and square."

He rolled his eyes as he pushed himself off the wall. Then he brushed past her and slipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

She almost didn't wait for him. But the thought of handling the two other women in his life alone stopped her. She really didn't want to go in there by herself.

When he found her still standing there a few minute later, it was his turn to smile smugly.

"What?"she shrugged, feigning innocence. "I wanted to be here to help you to the kitchen if you needed it."

He laughed. "You didn't want to go by yourself."

"That had nothing to do with it. I'm not afraid of Martha or Alexis...-" she protested. His smile didn't slip an inch. "Oh, shut up." she said finally. "This is all your fault, you know."

His voice was still extremely hoarse so instead of answering out loud, he just pointed to his chest.

"Yes, your fault. You were the one that talked me into sleeping in the bed."

"Yes, but nothing happened. What are you so nervous about?"he asked as they left the room.

"It isn't what did or didn't happen. It's what they'll think happened." she tried to explain.

"They won't think anything. In fact, I'm betting neither of them says a word."he assured her.

"Five bucks says your wrong," She returned.

He nodded. "You are on."

She silently braced herself before they turned into the kitchen. She knew they were there. She could hear them talking quietly amongst themselves from the doorway. But when they stepped into the room, nothing changed. They both looked up to acknowledge their presences, but neither of them stopped talking. And the looks they gave them weren't anything like she expected either. They weren't secret knowing looks, or disproving or anything more than simply hello.

"Good morning." Martha called from her place on one of the bar stools. "I've got a pot of coffee on."

"Morning," Kate mumbled as she made her way towards it.

Alexis smiled at her as she passed on her way to her father. "You look so much better today."

"I feel better." he nodded at her.

"I've already set your medicine out and I was just about to make you breakfast."

Kate turned with a steaming cup of coffee in her hand to find one of the most heart-warming sights that she'd ever seen.

Rick had found his way to the bar stool beside his mother and Alexis was more or less perched on his leg with her arm wrapped around his shoulder. Martha was brushing hair off his forehead while looking at him in concern. It was a beautiful little family, the three of them, sitting there together. Kate suddenly felt like she was intruding on something. But that was only until Martha patted the stool on the other side of her, silently inviting her to join them and become a part of the moment instead of an observer. Rick seemed to understand the significance of it as well and he watched her closely while she tried to decide what to do. It didn't take more than a moment to make up her mind. As soon as she settled onto the stool, Martha draped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a hug.

"We're all so happy to have you here, Kate. It was so nice of you to stay."she told her with warmth and sincerity.

Kate smiled at her in return. "I've enjoyed being here."

Alexis moved before things became too awkward. She kissed her father's cheek and went to the coffee pot to pour him a cup.

The one in Kate's hand had actually been meant for him. But she'd been so caught off guard by the exchange that she'd forgotten to give it to him. It was a good thing they liked them almost the same way, she thought as she took a sip.

"So what's it going to be? Eggs, pancakes, French toast?" Alexis asked.

Castle stuck his bottom lip out and gave her a dramatic pout. " Kate said I could have waffles."

"Okay, waffles it is," she nodded.

Kate watched her as she went about collecting what she would need to make waffles from scratch. She couldn't help but laugh. "Wow, you're really going through a lot of trouble there," she teased, casting her eyes in his direction so she could see his reaction. "I was just going to make him eat Eego's."

She wasn't disappointed when he looked over. " I guess my beautiful, talented, most awesomest daughter loves me more than you do." Then he actually stuck his tongue out at her.

"I can do that if you need to get ready for school," she offered, getting to her feet.

Alexis shook her head and shooed her away. "No I have plenty of time and Grans going to help. You two take your coffee and go back to bed. We'll bring it in when it's ready."

Kate started to protest, but she caught Castle's eye. He was already on his feet and motioning for her to join him as he shook his head, telling her not to argue.

She almost ignored him, feeling like she should say something to set his family straight. They were obviously confused by what Martha had seen. They were acting like they thought she and Rick were together, really together. It didn't escape her notice that neither woman seemed to have the slightest problem with that assumption. They had both simply accepted her as part of their lives now, like she was somehow a foregone conclusion.

But instead, because she wasn't really sure how she would manage to argue her case that nothing was going on between her and Castle, she joined him and let him lead her back down the hall.

"What movie do you want?"

"You're going to laugh at me." he concluded without giving her a chance to prove him wrong.

"Why would I laugh at you?"

"Jaws," he finally admitted.

"You want to watch Jaws?" she replied making sure she heard him. It was kind of an out of the blue choice.

"It's my sick movie." he said like she was suppose to know what that meant.

When she felt started at him blankly in return, he rolled his eyes. "Everyone has a sick movie. Its the movie you always grab when you're sick," he explained. "I know you have one, too."

She shook her head. "I do not have one. There isn't a particular movie I watch every time I'm sick."

"I bet it's something cheesy and cream-filled like Thornbirds or Dr. Zhivago.

She laughed. "I've never even seen either of those movies."

His stopped laughing, all taunting gone from his face immediately. " You've never seen either of them?"

He looked wounded, like she'd just told him she hated bunnies.

"Don't take it so personally, Castle. You didn't write either of them." she tried to comfort him.

"No, no one should go through their lives without seeing them once anyway."he said.

She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Alright. I'll make sure I check them both out as soon as I get a chance."

"Promise?" he pressed.

"Yes, I promise," she nodded.

"Now tell me what your sick movie is."

She rolled her eyes and turned to the shelf to search out his 'sick' movie.

"Is it a mystery?"he questioned, clearly not about to give up until he knew the answer. She was having too much fun playing the game to end it.

"If I had a sick movie, it wouldn't be a mystery. I don't like to think when I'm sick."

"Okay, how about a horror?"he countered.

"I don't like horror movies even when I'm not sick," she informed him.

"Not even the old ones like Poltergeist or Nightmare on Elm street ?"

"No, no, those are okay. But I think of them as more comedy than horror."

She finally found his movie and got it going in the DVD player. Then she started towards the bathroom for a nice long shower while breakfast was cooking.

" Come on,"he whined. "You have to tell me what is it. I'm sick."

She stopped and turned back to him ready to spin him a lie that would spin his head. But instead, she just smiled and dropped her arms. "E.T., whenever I'm sick, I watch E.T."

"Aw that's so sweet," she heard him call before the door shut behind her.

Bill and Ted's excellent adventure had followed Jaws. In a way, he guessed he was testing her to see how far her resolve to stay with him would go. She hadn't even faltered yet. Actually, she was being abnormally indulgent.

He was so full he could barely move. That was due to her surprising agreement when he requested a bowl of ice cream not long after breakfast. He had expected the 'Mommy' voice telling him he'd ruin his lunch or some other such nonsense. But she hadn't argued. And he got to enjoy two heaping scoops, one of chocolate and one raspberry. How she knew those were his favorites was beyond him.

Best of all, for some reason he couldn't hope to explain, she was currently sagged against his chest, using him as her own personal pillow. He was pretty sure she had fallen asleep. She hadn't moved or said a word in a long while. She couldn't possibly be that engrossed in the movie. It was – Bill and Ted, after all. He was even regretting his decision about that one.

He had long since lost interest in it himself. Now he was just enjoying running his hand through her hair and listening to her quiet breathing.

He felt a hundred times better than he had the day before. Dr. Josh might have been a douche in Castle's eyes, but he was a douche with good drugs.

He even thought briefly about sliding out from under his nurse and maybe getting some writing done. That had only been the briefest of thoughts, though. The very idea that he wasn't going to soak up as much time as he was allowed to hold her was absurd. Nothing could make him get out of that bed short of a fire. And even then it had better be his own apartment that was ablaze. She felt entirely too good lying there against him. It was too rare an opportunity for him to waste.

He wasn't sure how long they'd been like that. She had acquired her position shortly after returning to the bed from her shower and breakfast. Her smell had nearly knocked him over. Fresh, clean and still a little damp. Wow, the fantasies those elements conjured.

He figured as soon as the movie was over and she got up to change the disc, it was over. But once she finished she returned to exactly the same spot, her head on his shoulder, her legs nestled tightly against his and one of her arms crossed over his stomach. He hadn't known what to do with his own hands. He was half afraid to touch her. He didn't know what had inspired this new found affection, but he certainly didn't want to do anything that might make it go away. But finally he'd decided to just relax and let his hands fall to their naturally comfortable position. That being one at his side and the other floating slowly through the slightly wet chocolate strands of her lavender smelling hair.

Where had she found lavender shampoo in his bathroom? It most assuredly wasn't his. He may not be what one would call a tough guy, but he didn't walk around with hair that smelled like flowers either. Well, there was that one time, but he had lost a bet.  
>His finger hit a tangle he wasn't expecting and before he could disengage his hand she shifted, serving only to pull her hair more.<p>

Finally free of him, she raised her head, slapped him on the chest and said, "Ow," all at the same time.

"It was an accident," he defended himself.

"Give me your glass," she demanded, referring to the empty glass of orange juice sitting on the table beside him.

She took it from him and crawled out of bed. She left the room and returned a few minutes with a full glass and a dose of his medicine.

"This is worse than the stuff you gave me yesterday." he whined after taking the liquid.

"I'm sorry I forgot to tell them you needed the Flintstones variety," she quipped.

He was just about to return the jab when her phone rang and she left to answer it.

Again, a few minutes later she came back and took up a spot at the foot of the bed, facing him with an expression on her face that said he wasn't going to like what she was about to say. "I think we need to talk."

The words seemed to float in the air between them, stuck there, dangling in midair. His stomach pitched to his knees and he had to swallow hard to remove the lump that had grown in his throat, all over six little words. Six words that were about to seriously damage the warm, fuzzy feeling he was previously enjoying.

He sat forward and laced his hands together in his lap, giving his index finger on his left hand a glare of contempt in the process. It had started this whole thing to begin with. Everything was fine until that finger had to go and fuck it up by getting tangled in her hair.

He took as deep a breath as he was able. "Alright. What do you want to talk about?"

She glanced over her shoulder and he thought he saw the corner of her lip quirk up but he couldn't figure out why. She was so solemn and serious only a moment before.

"This movie is awful. Please don't make me sit through the rest of it," she said turning back to him with a full on smile across her face.

Relief flooded through him so quickly it forced all the air out of his lungs and it left his body in a gush. She was playing with him. He was dumbfounded for a moment.

He had been expecting her to say those words all day. Hell for the last two days to be honest. It felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the moment it all became too much for her and she ran away. He was almost positive it was coming.

And somehow she knew it, too. She knew exactly where his thoughts would go. She knew he was just waiting on the moment that it all fell apart.

She knew and she had just all but told him it wasn't going to happen. Making light of the situation was a sure sign that she was telling him to relax and stop worrying so much.

He had no idea how to respond to that. For the first time in his entire life, Richard Castle was speechless.

The fact and significance was not lost on her. The smugness of her smile as she stared back at him was a testament to that. He had never seen her so proud of herself. She was practically giving herself a pat on the back.

Then she just got up, pulled another DVD from the shelf, slipped it into the player and came back to curl up into his side again.

He had no idea what movie she'd chosen. He was so wrapped up in her right then it was impossible for his brain to process anything beyond her.

The thing that stumped him about the whole situation, the thing he could not understand, was why it didn't scare him more than it did. Oh, it scared him a little. The connection between them was strong enough at times to terrify anyone. It was eerie almost to the point of supernatural. A psychic link had developed between them. The ability to almost read each other's mind was more than a little intimidating, even to him.

But as usual, his curiosity over the thing far outweighed his fear. That happened to him quite often actually. Kate had been there to save him on more than one occasion over that particular character flaw. He figured this time it might work for him instead of against him.

She was scared enough for both of them. It was written all over her face, buried in her eyes. He had seen her stare down the toughest bad guys he could imagine, serial killers, rapists, cold blooded monsters with no conscience whatsoever, and she hadn't blinked an eye. Yet just the thought that her feelings for him had become far more than friendly and she was practically trembling in terror.

He felt as if they were approaching a point where one of them should make a move, cross a line, take a chance and put themselves out there. But he had no idea how to proceed. Was she waiting on him to jump off the bridge first ? Or should he wait and let her make the move when she was ready, when she'd had a chance to deal with all the little voices in her head?

He wished he could figure out an excuse to slip from the room so he could call Alexis. She would know what to do. She spoke 'girl' far better than he did.

Suddenly, Kate reached to her waist where his hand was resting. She took it and placed it back in her hair.

"I liked the hair thing."she murmured. " Just don't pull it this time."

Something in his head seemed to shift and he made a snap decision, one he hoped he wouldn't regret in a moment. He decided that if she could act like nothing was different between them, so could he.

He buried his fingers in her hair, just like she requested. " I thought you told me once that you had gotten used to me pulling your pigtails. I think you might even like it a little."

"Having you pull my pigtails is on my list of favorite things," she replied without missing a beat. "Right between Pap Smears and root canals."


	4. Chapter 4

So it was decided. Not talking about it was the plan. Kate knew full well that it was a stupid plan. Sooner or later, one of them was going to insist that this thing developing between them be discussed. She wasn't even sure she wouldn't be the one doing the insisting.

Despite his great efforts to the contrary, she could sense something in Castle that seemed like a rubber band stretched too tight. She was afraid it would break at any moment. He was putting on a great show of ignoring it though. His hand was still brushing through her hair so softly and slowly that the rhythmic motion had nearly put her to sleep again. His chest rose and fell under her cheek in a much less strained, painful way now. Apparently the medication was working. He hardly wheezed at all. Even the warmth of his body had settled into a much more comfortable heat that was just perfect. He wasn't too hot or too cold against her. He was just right.

She had never felt more comfortable, more relaxed and at ease, in her life. She really wished he'd join her. Why did men always insist on making a big deal out of everything? Why couldn't they just be satisfied with enjoying the moment?

The only cloud on her horizon was the phone call she'd gotten earlier in the morning. Lanie had called to check up on her. In refusing an offer for lunch, Kate had accidentally let it slip that she was staying with Castle while he recovered. She hadn't meant to say anything at all about Castle. It wasn't the right time and Kate was so confused herself, she didn't know exactly how to explain what was going on to her friend. But it was just out there, before she even realized she'd said it out loud. Lanie said, 'Do you want to get lunch later?' and Beckett had said, ' I can't. I'm taking care of Rick.'

She'd called him, freaking, Rick. The pause that had spanned between the two friends was long and very pregnant. It was only broken by a sort of choked gasp on the other end of the line. Then a long, drawn out, almost sing song, 'Oh my God!'. Then she began to beg for anything, it started out as a demand for details. When Kate refused that, she had tried for simply the facts. The problem was, Kate didn't have any details to give yet. She didn't have any facts. So she refused again. Then, in a fit of depression, Lanie had pushed for hints or suggestions. She said it was the least she could do. Kate figured she was right, she did owe her friend some kind of an explanation. 'Things are different,' she'd said. 'Different how?', was the obvious reply. Kate wasn't sure how to answer. 'I don't know, just different.' .'Did something happen?' was the next question in a long line. No, nothing out the ordinary had happened. No, she didn't know why things were suddenly different. She just knew they were. She had no idea what she was going to do now.

Lanie was silent for long enough that Kate checked the phone to make sure they were still connected. When she spoke again it was with the great wisdom she never failed to produce. There was a reason she was Kate's friend.

"Kate, I know you and I know Castle. This thing has been coming for years now. You need to talk about it," she'd said, sagely.

"That is exactly what I don't want to do. You know the minute either of us opens our mouths we'll screw this up," Kate had replied.

Lanie laughed and told her to suck it up. "If Castle's noticed things are different now, you're driving that man crazy. He's probably so confused he doesn't know which way is up. You need to talk about it."

"Yes, but you also know that I flunked 'share time' in kindergarten. I'm no good at this," she'd protested adamantly.

Then came the whopper, the thing Kate had been waiting for her to say. And as usual, it was the exactly right thing. "You don't have to be good at it. Just be honest. But whatever you do, let that man off the hook before he drowns."

They'd hung up shortly after that. And Kate had stood in the hall for a few minutes just trying to absorb it all. Lanie was right, of course. They did need to talk. There were things that needed discussing. But she just wasn't ready to do that yet. Besides, he was still sick.

So now here she was and despite her efforts to try to tell him to just go with it, he was making it painfully obvious that a talk was eminent.

She so did not want to talk about her feelings. Maybe if she just leaned back and kissed him, kissed him exactly like she'd dreamed about kissing him, they could avoid that step.

Oh, but wait, he's still sick, she reminded herself. There was very little danger of her becoming ill just by laying in his arms. But sticking her tongue down his throat was probably a different matter all together.

She suddenly wished he would lose his voice again. Then instantly chided herself for it. It was so wrong to wish misery on him just to keep from having to talk to him.

She even thought about just leaving. It's not like he could really chase her down in his current condition. Well, actually, he could. And knowing him, despite how miserable it would make him, he would. So to keep from adding to his suffering, she laid there, head against his chest, his hand whispering through her hair, riding the wave of silence for as long as she could.

It lasted longer than she expected it to. Apparently something in him didn't want to talk about his feelings either.

They had gone through the entire day, sleeping, eating, watching T.V. and even playing a board game at one point. But they hadn't talked. Oh, they chatted back and forth. They made a lot of small talk. But neither of them had begun the conversation that was just waiting to be had between them. It was like they'd pushed it off into a corner and were both vehemently pretending it did not exist.

The closeness hadn't faltered. She still found herself curled into his side every chance she got.

At the moment, she was sitting up next to him while Alexis was stretched out across the foot of his bed on her stomach with a textbook opened beside her. They were helping her with her homework.

The tension in her partner had suddenly reached an almost fevered pitch and he kept casting heavy glances in her direction. She was almost relieved when he suddenly got out of bed and announced that he was going to take a shower.

"I always imagined you being the type that took a shower in the mornings," Kate commented offhandedly.

He stopped at the door and turned to her with a wicked grin. "I've been known to do both. It just depends on how dirty I get after I go to bed." Then he slipped into the room and shut the door.

Both she and Alexis assured him that they could finish her assignment without his help and he left the room much more quietly than was normal for him.

"Can I ask you something?" Alexis ventured from behind a veil of strawberry blond hair after a long silence stretched out between them.

"Of course." Kate answered without hesitating.

"Are you sure? I mean, you don't have to answer at all if you don't want to. Just tell me it's none of my business. I won't be upset I promise," she began as she pulled herself up into a sitting position and tossed her pen aside, homework completely forgotten.

Kate held up her hand to stop her before she could go any further. "I really don't know what's going on between us. I haven't quite figured it out yet."

"But something, right?" Alexis pushed. Her youthful face was so full of hope and happiness, Kate had to fight the urge to giggle with her.

She couldn't fight off the blush. "Yes, something." she admitted, finally because there was no point in denying it. "That is, of course, if that's alright with you."

Alexis' smile widened even more. "Of course, that's alright with me. I'll be going to college soon and I had no idea what I was going to do with him then. It really isn't a good idea to leave him alone for long periods of time without supervision."

Kate chuckled in response. "No, it isn't a good idea to leave him alone for any amount of time without supervision. Right now, he's probably in there with soap in his eyes and no idea of what to do about it."

Alexis shrugged. " Either that or he's playing with his toy boats and he's too preoccupied to notice the tub is overflowing."

"Or he's doodling in the steam on the mirror while he makes faces at himself," Kate added.

"Or maybe, he just took a shower, dried himself off and got dressed without incident or mishap." Rick announced as he stepped out of the room. "I'd just like to tell you both that your faith in me is astounding." He stuck out his chin at them for approval. " See, I even shaved, all by myself."

Alexis gathered her things and stood from the bed after Rick settled back into it.

" It's getting late." She leaned in and kissed her father on the cheek. He didn't bother to pull away from her today. "I'll see you in the morning."

They said their goodnights and she left them alone, closing the door behind her.

Castle flipped on the television without comment and found the nightly news. Kate didn't even hesitate before resting her head on his shoulder to watch along.

When it was over, Castle, flipped off the T.V.. Kate got up and started folding the blankets back. They had been lying on top of them since his fever broke earlier in the day.

He got up to help, both of them slide into bed and he turned the light off. Then he went completely still. No sound or movement came from his side of the bed. He wasn't even breathing as far as Kate could tell.

" What is it?" she asked, sitting up and finding his shoulder with her hand.

He let out a ragged breath and followed it with a sigh. "I don't know. Nothing, I guess."

"Did you hear something?" she pressed.

She heard him shake his head. "No, nothing like that. I was just a little startled for a second."

They settled into the blankets again as he tried to shake off whatever was troubling him. "You're acting like you saw a ghost," she told him.

She felt him shift and quickly realized that he had turned to face her. She almost just turned her back to him and pretended not to notice that she could practically feel his eyes on her.

Instead, she took a deep breath and turned her body to face his as well. She knew it was time. There was no getting around it any longer. All distractions had been removed and there was nothing left but them and this thing hanging between them.

"What?"she asked to get the ball rolling. "I can feel you staring at me."

"Before I say anything let me assure you that I am not complaining, not even a little bit." he prefaced. "But I can't help but be a little curious about why you're sleeping here and not in the guest room tonight. I am obviously feeling well enough to be left alone."

She hadn't even thought about it. The idea of going down the hall to the guest room hadn't even occurred to her. "I just...-" she stammered with absolutely no idea how to continued the statement. She couldn't think of one viable, reasonable explanation for deciding to sleep in his bed again.

His hand found her shoulder and he brushed a strand of hair from her skin softly. She could feel the heat of his touch through the flimsy material of her t-shirt and it caused a shiver to race up her spine.

"You just what, Kate?" he prompted her, determined to get an answer from her.

Finally she let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "I have no idea. But you're right." She started to get up. "I just wasn't thinking. I really should go to the guest room."

The hand, that had been brushing against her shoulder was now holding it steady, keeping her from moving any further away from him. "Oh no, you don't." he told her in a voice that was not meant to be argued with. "That was not an excuse for you to use to run away. I simply wanted to make sure you were aware that a choice had been laid before you and this is the one you chose. All on your own."

"Castle,-" she began, but he cut her off by moving closer to her. He was practically on top of her now and she was suddenly finding it hard to breathe or think.

"Really, I'm back to being Castle again? I thought we'd moved beyond that now." he said. There was a challenge to his voice. Like he was daring her to deny it.

She almost did, just out of spite. He knew better than to dare her. "Okay," she conceded. "I suppose we have."

"So now maybe you can tell me where exactly we are and where we're going." he replied, his voice sounding so steady and natural she marveled at him all over again. "To be honest, I'm so confused right now I don't know what to do." he continued. "Like, for instance, would it be okay with you if I just leaned down," he paused to demonstrate the movement, bringing his lips just above her cheek. "and did this." Then he was brushing against her skin so softly she almost thought she imagined it except that her pulse had taken off like a shot the minute he made contact.

Her voice was breathless when she finally managed to answer him. "I think I could be okay with that."

"Really? So that's okay." He was leaning on his elbow and she had somehow managed to find herself flat on her back. He shifted again and now he really was leaning over her. " How about this? Hypothetically, if I did this-" he whispered into the darkness that surrounded them as one of his hands skirted across her waist. His palm brushed against the bare skin where her shirt had ridden up and it caused them both to stifle a tiny gasp. He finally brought it to rest right at her hipbone. His hand molded to the curve of her body as if it were made to sit just there. "Would we still be okay?"

She was so ashamed to find herself arching into him, brazenly, wantonly. It was a horrible display and she wanted nothing more than to make herself stop responding quite so enthusiastically.

He was still above her, patiently waiting for her to come to terms with his nearness.

Then his hand tightened and he whispered, "Kate?"

She swallowed so hard it was audible before wetting her suddenly dry lips. She could still remember every moment of the kiss they had previously shared. The way his hands started out cupping her face, then found their way behind to her hold her so tightly. The way his lips had molded to hers, setting her on fire.

And this time there wouldn't be any distractions, no outside influences. It was just them, alone in the world.

"Rick, I-" she began, but her phone rang, and she jumped at the chance to grab it. Things had suddenly become a little too intense. She needed an excuse, a buffer. She wasn't sure yet whether she was ready to dive into a world where only she and Rick existed.

She was pretty sure she heard him sigh in disappointment as she answered her phone. It was Lanie's voice that answered her.

Kate made her way to the bedroom door quickly and she closed it behind her.

"I'm so sorry, Girlfriend, but this isn't a social call," she said.

"No!" Kate exclaimed, sounding a lot like Castle to her dismay.

"I'm sorry. You were the last person I was intending to call tonight. I was hoping you were off collecting some of those details."

"I think I was just about to," she huffed. "Fine. I'll be right there. But I swear when I catch this guy, I'm going to make sure he knows just what I think of his timing."

She hung up the phone and started back into the bedroom. She was more confused now than she had been before. First she was looking for an excuse to get away from him. Now she was pouting because she'd have to leave him.

He had the lamp on when she returned. It didn't take him more than a glance at her face to know that she was not a happy woman.

"We have a body," he surmised without asking her.

"No," she shook her head. "I have a body. You have bed rest."

She was already in the process of gathering her clothes so she could change. He was on his feet, doing the same thing, completely ignoring her.

"You are not going," she repeated, louder this time.

"Oh, yes, I am," he finally answered when she stopped to glare at him.

"You're sick." she reasoned.

He finished gathering his things, but instead of slipping into the bathroom like she expected, he stopped right in front of her. "I am most certainly going."

She sighed, rolled her eyes and planted her hands on her hips all at the same time. Sometimes he was just exasperating. "Fine. You can come but you better not cough on my crime scene."

He was so glad to see the inside of his apartment by the time seven in the morning rolled around, he almost did a little dance when the door closed behind him. He probably would have danced, if he had the energy. Beckett was right. He shouldn't have gone. He was still sick.

"I told you so," the woman in question couldn't help but remind him as she tossed her coat onto an armchair.

He didn't have the strength or the will to tell her she was right. That would have been more than he could take. She came to him, where he stood leaning a trifle heavily against the wall and curled her hands around the lapels of his coat.

His breath caught in his throat. The sudden closeness of her proximity caught him completely off guard. Then she pulled him slowly towards her. He went along with her, letting her pull him into whatever position she wanted him in. The position was apparently upright. Because she stopped pulling on him once he was there and started to gently, yet firmly yank the coat from his shoulders.

It was not what he was hoping for.

Once she had his coat off, she took his hand and led him into the kitchen. The reason for her presence was still completely baffling to him. He had guessed that she would return to her own apartment once they'd wrapped up the crime scene. There really was no logical reason for her being there with him. Hell they had to pass her place to get to his from the precinct. He could have easily taken a cab home while she went her separate way. But they had both been starving after leaving work. And although he was feeling haggard and more than a little ragged around the edges, he'd agreed to join her for breakfast at their diner. The diner that was actually closer to his place than hers. So instead of back tracking through the city during rush hour traffic, here she was, again.

He was a little surprised by the familiarity she employed as she moved around his kitchen, preparing a dose of medicine for him.

"There's a note on the fridge for you," she announced as she pulled the juice out and filled a glass.

He raised his hand and she gave him both the juice and the note. Alexis, he smiled, telling him he was in trouble for leaving and that she loved him.

It wasn't long before he was settled comfortably back into bed. Then a moment of sublime awkwardness followed.

She tucked the blankets around him, then she moved as if she were about to lean in and kiss him. She stopped dead still for a long time. Just like he had earlier. From the look on her face, she was experiencing the same thing he had, too.

He was now referring to it in his mind as the 'ghost of Christmas' yet to come moment'. For him it happened as they were getting ready for bed. They watched the news, turned down the blankets, settled into bed together. It was like he'd witnessed the birth of a routine. His mind skipped ahead ten years and he saw them doing the exact same thing.

It was a strange heady experience so he let her work through it on her own. He didn't know what had sparked hers and she wasn't likely to tell him.

Finally she shook herself and turned away from him. "So, I'll just be right down the hall if you need anything," she announced as went for the door.

He immediately sat back up. "You aren't staying here with me?" he practically whined.

"Yes, I'm staying here with you because you're still sick, but I'm going to do that from down the hall. You were right earlier. You're much better now. You don't need me there with you."

"Kate," he called as she continued to move steadfastly towards the door. He wanted to tell her that absolutely wasn't true. He wanted to say that there would never be a time when he didn't need her right beside him. He wanted to tell her not to go. But he didn't. He watched her leave, satisfied, at least a little, by the fact she that she didn't look any happier about her decision than he did.

Rick was pretty certain he was making the right choice in letting her go. He tried to convince himself that she wasn't running from him, she was regrouping, taking a step back to absorb everything that was happening between them.

He could be patient. Well, he could try, at any rate. He'd never been very successful before but there was a first time for everything.


	5. Chapter 5

He groped around on his nightstand until his fingers finally closed over his ringing phone. He didn't even bother to check the I.D. to see who it was. He knew from the tone and it surprised him that she was calling. He squinted his eyes towards the clock as he hit the talk button. Two-thirty.

Detective Beckett had insomnia. Either that or a nightmare had taken the sleep from her. Either way, she was up and he was glad to see that at least this aspect of their relationship hadn't changed.

He hadn't seen or heard from her outside of work in almost a week. He figured that was his fault. He had done something, said something that pushed too far. He'd scared her away. He hoped this call meant that she was easing back towards him again.

He never, in a million years, would tell her, but her recent behavior reminded him of a skittish dog. She'd dart up to him out of curiosity, smell his hand, but the minute he moved, she took off again. Only to return a few minutes later to smell his hand again.

He had known from the beginning that trying to push their relationship to the next level wouldn't be easy. Nothing worth doing ever was. But he didn't expect it to be quite this hard. It seemed like for every step forward they made, she took three steps in the opposite direction. In short, they weren't getting anywhere and it was killing him. The light banter and innuendo between them had become laced with something much more serious and meaningful.

In fact, everything that happened between them was meaningful now. Even a quick, ' Goodnight, see you tomorrow' held an underlying tone of something left unsaid.

He wished they could talk to each other, really talk and get all this out in the open. But it was obvious she wasn't ready. So he waited, biding his time for her to catch up to him on the ride of their relationship. He had gotten on earlier so it was understandable that she wasn't at the same place. But it seemed like she was taking her time getting to him.

It was nerve-wracking, especially because they were always so in sync everywhere else.

"What has you up in the middle of the night?" he asked as soon as the phone was to his ear. "Please tell me we don't have a body."

"Nope," she assured him quickly. "No body. I guess maybe that was the problem."

He sat up and flipped on his lamp. "You're losing sleep over the fact that we don't have a body. That seems a little silly."

She chuckled. It was a sad sound. "No, I was just watching a movie and I guess I was feeling lonely."

"Oh, you mean, nobody," he half chuckled at himself for missing the pun. Then her words really caught up to him, he almost chocked. The fact that she was admitting such a thing to him, out loud, was not lost on him. He knew what it cost her to make confessions like that. He was eternally grateful that she felt as if she could trust him with such sensitive information."You will never need to feel lonely as long as I'm around, Kate. You know that." He meant it with every bit of sincerity in his soul.

Her voice was chocked when she answered. " I know," was all she said. But he heard the rest of the words, the invisible, 'same to you' that hung in the air after her verbal ones had long died.

"So what are you doing right now? Or more to the point, what are you wearing?" Castle asked after shaking away the heaviness of the moment and deciding it would be best to lend it some levity. It definitely needed the loan.

He could practically see her rolling her eyes at him in what was supposed to be disapproval. But there was more to Kate. Only Castle could see how much she really loved his antics and flirting. He was the only one privileged enough to catch the secret smiles she sent his way. It was like a tiny little secret they shared between them. Kate Beckett loved having Richard Castle pull her pigtails. SSHHH, don't tell anyone.

That was going to be a problem between them he realized with more than a little dismay. Kate would have a hard time working with people who knew so much about her personal life. She didn't share. She didn't like outsiders having insider information about her. As close as she was to Captain Montgomery, Ryan and Esposito, they were still outsiders. Only very, very few people got to be part of Kate's inner circle. He only knew of two. Himself and Lanie. He wasn't even completely sure about Lanie. He was pretty certain Kate still kept a few of her boundaries in place against her best friend.

But he had made himself a promise. He told himself that one day, before he died, he was going to see Kate Beckett naked.

And the body part of it was only a really, really small part. What he wanted was to see her without her walls, without her boundaries. He just had to meet the girl behind the curtain. And he had also decided a long time ago that he would gladly go through whatever tests she threw at him for a chance to spend some time with the real her.

"I'm wearing a pair of red pants with little M&M's on them and your shirt, oddly enough," she answered. He could tell she'd just plopped down on some piece of furniture from the sudden exhale of breath. He imagined that the piece of furniture was her favorite blue chair, the one with the leather so worn the cushions were becoming thread bare in spots. The one that smelled like vomit when they found it at a flea market while shopping for things to fill her new apartment. The one that had nearly caused him to break his back trying to lug it up the four stories to her apartment with Esposito being very little help on the other end.

The one he imagined that she sat in every time they had these little talks. And every time he asked her what she was wearing and every time she told him with as much detail as possible. Because she understood. The writer in him needed the visual. He needed to be able to see her in his mind while they talked. He hadn't even had to explain his reason for asking to her. She just seemed to know.

"The old baseball jersey or the brown t-shirt with the black design?" He had given her several items of clothing after her apartment exploded and she'd protested when he offered to help replace her whole wardrobe. But she hadn't objected to taking the shirts. Now he knew why. She slept in them, every night almost, or at least it seemed that way.

"The brown one," she answered.

"I'm thinking that's your favorite," he said and immediately regretted it when he heard her take in a breath. He didn't think he'd said anything wrong.

"How do you know that?" she asked sharply.

He swallowed hard, thinking his next words just might chase her away. The problem was he didn't know what he'd said to set her off to begin with. "You always wear it on laundry day. It just seems like it's the first thing you grab. I can almost count on it. Every time you mention that you need to do laundry, later that night, that's the shirt you're wearing."

"How do you know things like that about me? It's kind of stalkerish," she laughed like she was trying to brush off something that had actually hit her pretty hard.

"I have a knack for paying great interest to details," he explained, taking his cue from her. "It's one of my gifts and My Dear Detective, nothing gives me greater pleasure than paying attention to your details."

She huffed in response. "Oh please, was that supposed to be a line? That was terrible. Is this the Richard Castle charm I keep hearing so much about, because, I gotta tell ya, that was a bit of a letdown."

"Oh Sweetheart, when I start throwing out lines and bringing on my charms, you'll know," he said in his best sexy drawl.

"Is that a threat?" she asked without missing a beat.

"It's a promise. One I intend to keep one day," he answered boldly. Again he was pushing the limits of their barriers, but he couldn't help himself. How would he ever know how close she was willing to let him get if he didn't keep trying to get a little closer ?

"Is that a fact?" she replied. She was testing the waters, making sure they were both on the same page this time.

"Yes, Ma'am, it is," he replied without hesitation.

There was a long pause from her end and he thought he might have lost her. But then she pulled in a shaky breath. "Then what are you waiting for?" she asked finally. Her voice started out strong but ended more than a little breathless.

"I'm waiting on you, Kate," he told her. "I've been waiting on you for awhile."

"Why?" was her next question and he'd been ready for it.

"You know why. But I don't want to talk about the whys right not. Not until you're ready." he replied as he laid back down into his pillow.

Another long pause followed and he knew right then that she wasn't ready. "I think maybe I'm ready now," she told him at long last and he so wanted to believe those words. But he couldn't. He just knew it wasn't true.

"No, you aren't. But that's okay. I'll be here when you are and in the meantime you can tell me what's going on with you. Why are you feeling ' Lonesome tonight' ?" he gave her his best Elvis impersonation on the last two words, hoping to both change the subject and get a laugh. They needed to laugh.

She did oblige him, but it was a quiet one that ended on a sigh. Wow, tonight she was going to be a tough crowd.

"I did something stupid," she admitted.

"It's okay, happens to me all the time," he returned.

She chuckled then, a little louder than the one before. He was gaining on her.

"What was this grievous offense? So that I may pass the final judgment on it's stupidity."

"I watched When Harry met Sally."

He waited for the punchline but it never came. He couldn't help but laugh at that. "Why is that stupid? It's a fine movie. A classic, if I must say so myself. Nothing wrong with catching a good movie."

She huffed again and it really kind of sounded like she might have been crying before she called. He wondered why he hadn't noticed that before. "I watched it alone, all by myself, in my tiny little apartment and I'm almost thirty years old and-" he cut her off because he was afraid if he didn't she might go on forever.

"Do you want me to come over?" He was already out of bed and getting dressed.

"No, I'm okay," she said before he got very far. " I just needed to reassure myself that I'm not as alone as I feel like I am, I guess." Her words were almost mumbled like she had had to force them from her lips.

"Are you sure? I can be there in less than twenty minutes. Thirty if you want me to stop for anything on the way," he pressed. He felt a deep insisting need to be with her right then, to wrap his arms around her.

"I'm sure," she answered firmly, letting him know that he would just have to deal without her.

He let out a sigh like all the wind had been let out of his sails and sank back down to the bed. If she wouldn't let him hold her, he was going to make sure she knew he wanted to and she would just have to deal with that. "Kate, listen to me, you are never, ever going to be alone again. Not as long as I have anything to say about it. I am not going anywhere."

It sounded like she squeaked. Then, there it was again. "I know," complete with the left unsaid, 'same to you'. "So you said you were going to try to get some work done today," she not-so-smoothly changed the subject.

He squirmed and almost lied to her. He didn't want to talk about what he'd written earlier in the day. But he found that he just couldn't do it. "I did. I got quite a bit done actually."

"What was today's adventure about? You said you were having some trouble with your next scene."

Apparently, Detective Beckett had a knack for details as well. It was something he mentioned in passing. He hadn't wanted to say anything at all about it. He wasn't sure they were in the right place in their relationship to have a conversation like this one. It was the latest Rook-Nikki love scene.

But he had an incredibly hard time writing the scene. Even after he sat back and reread what he wrote, it still felt forced and fake. He hated that. He would have to retry it. He couldn't be satisfied by what he had now.

"So what's the problem? Did you get it all worked out?" she asked like he was hoping she wouldn't, even though he knew she would.

"Not really. There are still some kinks." He regretted his choice of words the moment he uttered them. It was like his brain was somehow bypassing his common sense and making him say things that would lead the conversation where it wanted it to go. And right then, it apparently wanted to talk dirty to Detective Beckett. It wasn't even his fault really. Blame it all on the diabolical brain.

"What kind of kinks?" she asked at first. Then she had a chance to really think about what he said and assumed it was a pun. "Oh my God, Castle, what kind of scene is this?"

He paused for a long moment before quietly muttering, "It's a love scene," he confirmed her suspicions.

Then Kate Beckett did something he would never have imagined. He heard the phone shift and waited for her to start needling him about the source of his problem. But instead of teasing, her voice was low, raspy, almost sultry when she spoke again. "So what's the problem ? Tell me about these kinks."

"Se-seriously," he stuttered before he could help himself.

"Yes, seriously. We can talk about this just like we do all your other problems. You told me I help," she argued.

She really had no idea how much she helped him. She was always there to talk through a scene if he needed to. She helped him figure out ways to jump hurdles that he came across. She helped far more than she knew. "You do," he told her, warmly. "You always do."

"Alright then, let's go. Tell me the problem," she urged.

"Well, Rook and Nikki are in the middle of investigating this case and they have to go undercover. Anyway they end up sharing a motel room and things just sort of progress from there," he told her.

"Is there only one bed in this room?"

"Yes, and both of them refuse to sleep on the floor," he replied.

He heard her sigh. "I love how you do that."

"Do what?"

"You talk about your characters like they're people. Real people. It's like you were trying to get one of them to sleep on the floor but you couldn't see either of them doing it," she explained.

He chuckled and marveled at the same time. "It's exactly like that. I can't make them do things they won't. I can't force them."

"So, I assume one of them is going to have to initiate the scene. Somebody's got to make a move," she continued without pause.

Wow, what a loaded statement. Or was it? He decided to go with the safe bet and pretend it was.

"Well, that's where I'm hung up. I'm not sure who should make the next move," he explained.

She was quiet for a minute like she was thinking. "Don't you think maybe it's Nikki's turn? I mean every time before it's been him. Maybe it's time for her to step up and prove that she might be as committed to this thing as he is."

He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Maybe it is, but do you really think she's ready to put herself out there like that. It would be admitting to him and herself that there really was something there. There's no going back from that. If she starts it, there is no way for her to turn it around on him."

"I think she might be ready. I think she trusts him enough for that," she replied.

He laughed quietly. "Again with the 'might be's and maybes'. The problem is, if she isn't ready and he can tell, I don't think I can stop him from stopping her. It's just who he is. He cares about her too much to let her turn any part of their relationship into a regret. Especially that part. That part of a relationship is sacred. It should never be sullied by regret."

She sighed, quietly, contentedly. "You are such a romantic."

"I suppose I am," he agreed. "But this is something I feel very strongly about. The steps that take a friendship to a romance are the most important ones." He was absolutely sure now they were no longer talking about Nikki and Jameson. She had sensed his rebuff of her obvious advances and she wanted to know why. She might as well have asked him straight out. She wanted him to explain himself.

"You are such a writer," she teased him and just like that, he knew that she understood his reasoning and accepted it. In those handful of sentences they had said more to each other than the words leaving their lips ever could alone. They talked without talking. They always managed to find a way to say what needed saying between them without ever using the words. God, they were good.

He never imagined that he would ever be a part of something like this. He felt like she was the missing half of him. Everything, EVERYTHING, he could ever want or need was right there in her. They were one person, split down the middle by some dastardly God with anger issues. And he spent a lifetime looking for her. He never even believed he would ever really find her.

"I still say she's ready to move the relationship along," she argued.

"And I still say that if she can't convince him and I mean really convince him that she's ready to be on the same page with him, he's not going to let anything go that far."

"It's not like they haven't had sex before," she threw in, reminding him of what they were supposed to be talking about.

"But always he makes the move. She feels safe that way. She doesn't have to put herself out there that way. If she initiates something, if it starts with her, then she has to admit that she feels more for him than just a physical attraction. Because that's never enough for Nikki."

"So okay, don't you think it's time she admits that? They've been circling around it since the first book. Sooner or later, they are going to be together, everyone knows it. Why not just let them be together?"

He was dumbfounded. Sooner or later, they are going to be together. Was she really talking about them still or had she slipped back into the facade of Nikki and Jameson? Did she really believe that a relationship like that between them was inevitable? He knew he did. But he never imagined she might see things the same way.

"Kate," he finally choked out because he had no idea what else to say to that.

"It's getting late. Maybe we should say 'goodnight' and 'see you in the morning'."

He sat up quickly, panicked at the thought of hanging up. He wasn't ready to let her go yet. "Wait, I still don't know what to do about the scene. I still can't see how it plays out."

"Alright. But only a little longer. Some of us have to go to real jobs in the morning to do paperwork. And some of us have partners that abandon them to the paperwork all alone because they really need to write," she jabbed at him.

"You said you were okay with me staying home until another body came up," he protested. "You said you understood."

"I do. I'm just teasing. It really is okay." And again, the words, invisible and unsaid, hung in the air, but I miss you.

He almost said he missed her, too. Because he did. God, how he missed her. He hadn't been to the station in three days now. He hadn't seen her face to face in two. She'd come into the Old Haunt after work two days before and found him working on the books. But she hadn't stayed long, despite his begging.

"So how does this start? Would they start off talking? Would she ease her way into it or would she just grab him and have her way with him?" he prompted.

"It wouldn't happen that way," she replied immediately and with utter confidence. "Nikki wouldn't just jump him."

"You seem to be of one mind with her all of a sudden. Tell me, Kate, what would she do?" He was skating on some very dangerous ground now. He didn't even know what had caused him to put it that way. Must be the diabolical brain again working it's magic.

"I think they should go to sleep apart and wake up in each other's arms," she told him after a brief pause to consider. "And it should be raining." He could already see the image she was creating for him in his mind. She knew how to talk to him like no one else ever had. The details, it was all about the details for him. Most people left them out, considered them unimportant. But Kate seemed to know and understand that for him the details meant everything. "Not storming. Well," she reconsidered. "Thunder would be nice, gently rolling thunder, nothing scary, just a low rumble in the distance." His mind sighed in contentment as she continued. "And there needs to be a fan for some reason, something softly blowing the air around in the room. It needs to be dark in the room, with maybe just a hint of moonlight peeking through the curtains."

"I thought they were waking up in each other's arms," he interjected though he wasn't sure how his mind processed the discrepancy.

"Well, they can wake up in the middle of the night," she answered. "They wake up facing each other at the same time, or maybe almost the same time, maybe she wakes just a hair before him, giving her a chance to really look at him."

"Okay, after she looks at him, then what?" he asks to assure her that she had his rapt attention.

"As soon as his eyes open they just look at each other for a minute then she kisses him."

He licked his suddenly very dry lips and couldn't believe he was about to do what he was about to do. But he could not stop himself. "How, Kate?" his voice was little more than a whisper. "How does she kiss him?"

She paused and he could all but hear the uncertainty climbing through the phone at him. Then with a deep, ragged breath she went on, "She would kiss him hard at first, but it wouldn't take long before it became something more than that. He would be able to sense that something was different this time and it would catch him off guard. He wouldn't know how to respond."

"Oh no, Sweetheart, Rook knows how to respond." He felt an unreasonable need to defend his alter ego.

"Does he now?" she countered. "What would he do?"

"I think he would kiss her back exactly the same way. He would want to make sure that she understood that he understood, things were different."

She didn't say anything for a moment. "What the hell did you just say?"

"I know it sounds complicated and it is. That's who they are. They're complicated."

"So he would kiss her back?" she asked, trying to get back on track. They seemed to jump off of them so often when they talked. "And then what?"

"I don't know, Kate. This was your idea," he answered.

"Alright," she agreed. He could almost hear her talking herself into continuing this. "She would pull him to her and wrap one of her legs around his thigh, loving the feel of his hair covered skin against her perfectly smooth flesh."

His eyes rolled back in his head and he almost coughed over his tongue which was now roughly the same size as his mouth. He was actually having a little trouble breathing and he was painfully aware of a tightening in his groin.

"She would run her hands over his bare chest, I assume he doesn't sleep with a shirt on?" her question threw him, jerking him out of his fantasy like she'd thrown a glass of water in his face.

"No, he doesn't normally wear a shirt to bed," he said finally.

"Good," she practically purred at him. "Less clothes to deal with." She graciously pretended not to hear him whimper. "She would run her hands across his chest, letting her thumbs flick over his nipples as she moved. And all the while, she would still be kissing him. She'd let her tongue run over the roof of his mouth before letting it bump over his teeth. She would suck his tongue into her mouth, drawing him in deeper, trying to swallow him whole."

He took a deep breath and exhaled it rather loudly. He was really, really trying not to let his hand, which was resting tentatively on his thigh, move to where it wanted to go so badly.

He was throbbing now and all manner of thought had ceased to exist for him. The only thing he could focus on was her voice, so low and raspy, so quiet and intoxicating.

"Castle, are you still there?" she asked, with sudden concern.

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere. Wild horses couldn't pry this phone from my hand," he assured her. "Please, go on."

"You're the writer, don't you think I've given you enough to get started?" she asked, suddenly shy.

She needed him to become involved in this too, now. She needed to know he was there with her.

"Oh, I'm started alright," he quipped. " But I don't think Jameson would just lay there while all this is taking place."

"No, he probably wouldn't," she agreed.

"So while Nikki was swallowing him whole, your words, not mine, he would have his hands around her waist. Then he would start moving them up her sides, dragging her shirt along for the ride, until her breasts were bare. Then he would pull her closer and take her breast into his mouth, surrounding it," There was a noise on the other end of the line that sounded like she'd dropped the phone, but it only took a second before she was quiet again. "Then he would move to the other one, holding her against him with a hand at the small of her back," he continued.

A soft sigh escaped, then, "I think she would want to take control again," she began again. "She would push him until he was laying on his back. Then she would slide over him, investigating every inch of his skin, tasting him with her tongue and caressing him with her hands."

The noise he made now was not something that could be ignored. He groaned. It was a loud, needy groan and he'd tried to bite it back before it escaped but he hadn't been quick enough. She stopped talking for a moment like she was trying to wrap her mind around the sound.

"Are you okay?" she asked at last.

He thought about lying again. But again he couldn't. "I don't think you have any idea what you do to me," he mumbled when nothing else came to him.

He figured once the words were said, this would be over. He thought that shattering the fantasy by admitting it would cause her to back away. He didn't know what to do when her voice came back, even lower and more sultry than before and she whispered, "I know."

His mind went blank like it had somehow short circuited. Did Kate just tell him without telling him that she felt the same way, too? The image his mind conjured was more than he could take. He could all but see her, lounging in her favorite chair, wearing his shirt, hair down around her shoulders, chest heaving breathlessly and face flushed with unbridled desire, desire invoked by him.

He had to do something now. He had to keep this going. They were heading towards something, taking a huge step forward and he couldn't allow anything to get in the way of that. "I don't think he could take that for long," he mumbled before clearing his throat and swallowing to steady his voice. "He would have to act."

"How, Rick? What would he do?" she asked.

His name on her lips was a sign. It was a go head, a green light. And something else. It was her letting him know that she was bringing him just a little bit closer. The name she used when she addresses him was always important. It was his cue. Castle meant he was in the friend's zone. But when she called him Rick, all bets were off. Rick was familiar, emotional, intimate. He could count the number of times she'd actually called him Rick.

"He'd flip them over again, pulling her under him. Then he would remove her shirt from where it was bunched up under arms, taking into account how uncomfortable it must be. He wouldn't move back to her breasts, not yet. Now that she was shirtless he would have other parts of her on his mind. Like the curve of her shoulder, which he would run his lips over almost reverently. That would be how he would always touch her, with reverence and awe, like she was giving him a priceless gift just by allowing him to be so close to her. He would skirt his lips over the perfect ridge of her collarbone, then up the column of her throat, stopping to dip his tongue into the hollow at the base so he could feel her pulse beating wildly."

She took another breath. "You think he would have her pulse beating wildly?" she asked.

"Oh absolutely. I think by now she would be practically writhing under him," he answered.

"Writhing? Come on now, you really believe he has skills like that?" she countered.

He chuckled. "He has skills she's only dreamed about," he confirmed. Another sound that might have been a moan came as her reply and he decided to jump back into their game. "He would kiss her again, even as his hands began to work their way down her body, stopping for a moment to caress her breast, because he wouldn't be able to resist. By the time he made it to the waistband of her panties, she would be panting."

"Panting?" she interjected again. "I think panting might be a little strong. Her breath might have quickened but I don't think she'd be panting yet."

Yet, which meant it was still a possible outcome. "Then he'd have to start all over again until he had her where he wanted her, needy, desperate, and hungry."

"Well then, he would need to find the spot right below her ear. I have a feeling it's her Achilles' heel," she informed him.

Did she just tell him that ? That was a huge tidbit of information for her to reveal. She was giving him tips. Giving him one of those precious details so he could file it away for later use.

"That is what he would do then. He would find that spot, right under her ear and take his time finding out exactly what he needed to do to make her moan for him. In fact, he would take his time finding every place on her body that made her moan. He would commit every one of them to memory."

"Then what happens, when he's finally got her where he wants her, what does he do then?" she urged him on.

His hand had betrayed him, misbehaved without his consent. It was now resting, over his blankets, but in his lap all the same. It was not too subtly pushing against the almost overwhelming hardness of his groin, like it was trying to alleviate some of the pressure. But he knew that wasn't going to happen. There was no way he could just wish this one away. He wasn't bothering with trying any of his usual devises. No amount of baseball stats, fifth grade teacher's naked, or childhood traumas would erase the raging need building in him now. The childhood trauma usually worked like a charm. Once he had accidentally walked in on his mother with one of her co-stars. The image still haunted him and it had gotten him out of many an awkward moment throughout his life. But even that wasn't strong enough to deal with this.

He swallowed again, trying to pull himself together enough to continue. It was a testament to his skills as a writer that he was able to manage. "He would hook his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and slowly slide them from her body, making sure to let his palms trail over the soft skin of her legs."

"She would raise her hips to help him," she added.

"Then he would stop and just look at her, like she was a gift to the Gods laid before him like an offering." She sighed at that, or maybe her voice hitched, he really couldn't tell.

"She wouldn't be able to resist pulling him back to her. She would need to feel him surrounding her, covering her," she replied.

His hand had almost completely betrayed him now. It had quietly slipped beneath the blankets. His palm was warm and sweaty where it rested on his bare thigh. His fingers twitched every time she made a sound. Every word she spoke brought him closer to breaking his resolve.

"Do you think so?" he asked in a shaky voice. "I would think that Nikki would want to be in control now. I think she's the type that would take over."

"No," Kate replied immediately. "She might like to be in control everywhere else, but here, she'd rather let him take the lead. It's like a little concession for her. Her way of telling him that she trusts him with this."

He gulped and a sheen of clammy sweat raised over his skin. The goosebumps that followed sent a shiver down the middle of his spine.

"What has he done to deserve her trust like that?" he asked.

She had to think about her answer, he could tell by her hesitation. "Everything," she answered simply. "He's always there. She knows he'd never hurt her for any reason. He's proven it to her over and over again. How could she not trust him after all they've been through together."

"Kate," he whispered. It was a fragile sound like it was something easily broken.

"It's really getting late." she told him before he could say anything else. She was running again. "I really need to get to bed. I'll see you in the morning?"

"I'm not coming in in the morning, remember?" he replied still trying to decide whether he really was going to just let her go.

"Right," she sighed in what he hoped was disappointment. "Then I'll see you next time someone kills someone."

In the end, he chose to let it lay for now. Again, he could be patient. "Alright. Call me back if you still can't sleep. I'm always here."

"I know," she whispered quietly, 'I love you, too,' hanging off the end of it this time.


	6. Chapter 6

For the first time in her entire career, Kate Beckett wanted someone to murder someone. She felt incredibly guilty over it, but it was true all the same. Maybe that made her a horrible person. Maybe she was going to go to hell for it. Maybe she could accept that fate if it meant a body landing on her desk.

An entire week. She'd caught up every bit of paperwork she could get her hands on. She'd tidied up her little cubicle so many times all the dust bunnies had run in terror.

She hadn't moved his chair though. It was the one thing she couldn't bring herself to do. She couldn't move the freaking chair, not even to clean under it. It sat at exactly the same angle to her desk as it had the last time he'd sat there.

And despite it's vacancy, no one had even attempted to occupy it in his absence. It was sacred. It was Castle's and everyone knew it. In fact nothing he claimed as his own had been touched. His pen still sat beside hers in the cup holder on the corner of the desk next to the chair. His coffee cup, clean and turned upside down sat beside the cup holder. There was even a piece of paper there, still right where he left it, that he had been doodling on while he thought.

Kate smiled as the memory struck her. He was a doodler. For obvious reasons, he almost always had a pen in his hand and that pen was almost always moving, whether it was making words or making silly little cartoon characters that carried on conversations with each other in bubbles over their heads. The one she was looking at now didn't have words. In fact it wasn't a character at all. It was a rose. He'd been working on it while they talked out their last case together. She remembered he was still more sick than he was letting on. That was apparent by the ball of tissue he had wadded up in his free hand, just in case. He'd sat there, doodling along, drinking his coffee for what felt like hours. And yet it was over far too quickly and they'd said goodnight to each other.

She had no way of knowing that it would be so long before she saw him again. He'd told her earlier in the day that he had a deadline drawing near and he really needed to stay home and finish the latest book. Of course, she'd been disappointed, but she hid it well, wishing him good luck and telling him to call her if he needed her.

They'd talked on the phone almost every night since then. The first night she called him. Another nightmare had ripped the sleep away from her and she'd found herself almost shaking with the intensity of it. She hadn't even hesitated, or bothered to check the clock before pushing the number two on her speed dial. Number one was the precinct. He hadn't protested, hadn't complained at all that she'd woken him at two-thirty in the morning, though it was obvious that she had. He'd simply talked to her until she drifted off to sleep with the phone still cradled in her hand.

That was how most of their late night conversations ended. She would let his dulcet tones carry her back to the sleep she was missing. He was the only person she'd ever met that could lull her like that.

The next night they hadn't talked at all. It was disconcerting not seeing him at some point during her day but it was almost unfathomable to go without even talking to him. She had no idea how she'd survived it.

The night after that, it was him calling her. Something had been bothering him. He never told her what it was, but he had assured her, before they hung up, that she had helped with whatever it was. She didn't know how she'd helped. They'd spent two hours on the phone watching a movie together. They hadn't even said much aside from the stray comment here or there. But somehow, she had helped. It was nice to know.

The next night was the night that changed things. When she dialed his number and his sleepy voice answered, she knew she had made a mistake. She was far to vulnerable after a bad day and a worse choice of nightly movie entertainment to brace herself against his charms. She knew it the minute she heard his voice. Then his declaration about the shirt. Her favorite shirt. The whole thing had thrown her so far off her game she wasn't entirely sure she could be held responsible for happened after that.

She really didn't know why she'd let things go as far as they had that night. And a small part of her wished she hadn't chickened out at the last minute. A much larger part of her was eternally grateful that he had let her.

The conversation had reached a fevered pitch. She knew it. He knew it. They had reached the point where it was time to either go for it full throttle or back away gracefully. She'd taken the last option at the last possible moment. Another few words from either of them and it would have been considered full blown phone sex.

As soon as the thought floated across her brain, she felt the warmth of a blush creeping over her cheeks. She had almost had phone sex with Castle.

And now she had never been more conflicted in her life. She wanted to see him so badly she ached with missing him. And yet, she had no idea what she would say to him when she did. Was she supposed to pretend like what happened hadn't happened? Did she bring it up or wait for him to do it? Did she even want to pretend it hadn't happened?

That one stumped her. The tension between them had been building for so long it was a heavy, weighty thing pressing down on them now. Something had to give, sooner or later. You could only keep dancing around someone for so long before one of you stumbled and things fell apart. She couldn't afford to let things with Castle fall apart. She had too much invested in him now. He meant too much to her.

"You can keep staring at that chair all day long and it isn't going to make the man appear in it." A familiar voice intoned.

She looked up to find Ryan and Esposito standing in her 'doorway' chuckling at each other over Ryan's cleverness. She hadn't heard anything she found funny.

"I'm not staring," she tried to explained. "I was thinking."

"Whatever you were thinking about looked pretty intense," Esposito told her. "Care to share the thoughts?"

"No," she mumbled, put off by their ribbing.

"Why don't you just call him?" Ryan asked.

"Call who?" she demanded, knowing full well to whom they were referring.

Both of them just grinned at her and looked at the empty chair instead of answering.

"I don't have a reason to call him. We haven't got a body. Do we?" She hated how hopeful her voice sounded over the prospect. Yep, she was going to hell.

"No," Ryan answered. "I guess all the murderers are on vacation."

"That's weird though, isn't it?" she asked. She'd been thinking about it all morning. An entire week and not one murder in New York City.

"I've never seen it this slow." Esposito answered. "But I'm not complaining. In fact, I'm going to take advantage of this non crime spree and take a beautiful lady out to dinner."

She gave him a smile. "That would be nice. I know a beautiful lady that could use a night out."

He grabbed his chest in mocking. "I'm sorry, KB. I was thinking about Lanie. Can I get a rain check?"

Her heart actually stuttered in her chest as a new voice joined their conversation. "That's alright, Man. I've got her covered," Rick Castle announced as he rounded the corner.

The three men did the one armed, man hug that men did with their buddies.

"What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming back until we caught another case?" Ryan asked him.

"I wasn't. But I wasn't expecting it to take so long." Rick answered.

He looked good, rested and relaxed. Younger than he had seemed in recent days. Kate wondered what had brought on the change.

"We've missed you around here. We haven't had anyone to play with in days," Esposito added.

Castle glanced in her direction, apparently expecting one of her disproving looks. All he received was a warm, welcoming smile.

"Well, we were just heading out." Ryan told them, taking a step back. "I'm glad you'll be here to keep her company though. I'm pretty sure she was planning to sit here all night, all by herself."

"We can't have that, now can we?" Rick answered.

"I can manage just fine on my own, thank you very much," she assured the three of them.

"But I'm here now, so you don't have to," he answered with a devastating smile.

The other two men said their goodbyes and took their leave, leaving Castle standing in the door of her cubicle, arms folded over his chest and grinning like an idiot.

"What has you in such a good mood?" she asked, no longer able to help herself.

"Isn't getting a chance to see you enough to put anyone in a good mood?" he answered, swinging himself into his chair and exhaling loudly as he relaxed into it.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Come on, what gives with the goofy grin? You couldn't possibly be happier with yourself over something. What have you done now?"

His grinned widened with that was possible. "I've decided I've been working too hard and I need a break. And I'm here to insist that you join me."

She opened her mouth to say something, but he stopped her before she could. "It's five o'clock on Friday night. If you tell me you have work to do, it means, A - you're lying, or B – you caught a case and chose not to call me. If it's either of those I'll be very hurt."

She sighed in resignation. "It's neither of those. I wasn't going to say no."

"Yes, you were. But I'm glad I stopped you. I've been cooking all day. I need someone to help me eat it all."

"You cooked. Why?" she asked, even as she got up and began to gather her things.

"Boredom mostly. But then it occurred to me that you've been stuck in this dreary station house for an entire week without my charms. I couldn't image how you endured. But I figured you might need something truly magnificent to lift your spirits," he explain.

His hand was on the small of her back as he led her towards the elevator. She had to fight the urge to lean back into him. He was all she needed to lift her spirits. He always was.

"And you think you've created something truly magnificent?" she teased him.

"Oh, you just wait. I've pulled out all the stops for this one. I'm about to knock your socks off," he bragged shamelessly.

She stuck out her foot as the elevator doors closed, and hitched up her pant leg, reveling a bare ankle. "I'm not wearing socks," she smirked.

"Well, prepare yourself. Because what I have planned for us tonight is going to knock something off," he replied without missing a beat.

He was right, of course. Castle rarely boasted about things he couldn't back up and this time was no exception.

The first thing that struck her when she stepped into his loft behind him was how quiet it was. Alexis was obviously out, either that or she was cloistered away upstairs in her room. But something about the place said it was empty.

"Alexis is with mother. They went off on a girl's spa adventure," Rick answered the question before she had a chance to ask it.

"So that's what this is about? You're feeling lonely," she assumed.

He turned to her sharply. "Actually, it has nothing to do with that," he told her in all seriousness. "I had a poker game set up for tonight, but I called it off."

"Why?" she asked quietly. The look on his face was causing something low in her body to tighten. There was something going on with him. She didn't know what exactly, but there was definitely something. She wondered if the difference was the phone call they shared two nights before. Was that what was causing him to watched her with a gaze that was practically smoldering? Neither of them had said a word about the call. She guessed they were once again pretending something significant hadn't happened. They seemed to do that a lot. Still, she couldn't help but squirm a little under his new scrutiny.

He shrugged but his eyes didn't lighten at all. They were still dark and stormy, staring back at her with an intensity she couldn't explain. "I missed you. I thought we could use a little one on one time away from everything."

"One on one time ?" she questioned.

"Yeah," he nodded. "You know, just you and me, some good food, good music, good company."

"Good food, good music and good company, is this a date?" she asked before she could stop herself. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer. And she was surprised at how skillfully he had managed to get her there without really asking her.

His eyes sharpened at her, something in them told her that was exactly what this was. "No, it's just two friends spending an evening hanging out together. Why? Do you want it to be a date?"

She wasn't ready for the question, hadn't been expecting him to toss it back to her like that. "No," she mumbled, suddenly uncomfortable. "Two friends hanging out sounds like a great way to spend a Friday night." Then she surprised even herself when she quietly added, "I've missed you, too."

They were in the kitchen now and she noticed for the first time the soft sounds of what she thought might have been Marvin Gaye softly flowing through the room. The other thing she noticed was the heavenly smells surrounding her.

She didn't know what he had prepared, but it smelled delicious.

"I just need to plate everything up," he commented over his shoulder as he opened the oven door. "There's a bottle of wine breathing on the counter there. If you want, you can grab a couple of glasses and take them to the balcony."

"The balcony?" she questioned again.

"That's where we're eating. Everything is all set up. Just needs us, the wine and the food. It's right through the living room. You know the way."

He was purposely not looking at her, or at least it seemed that way to her. So she fixated on the blue of his shirt as the muscles of his back flexed while he moved.

Finding the bottle of wine and two glasses, she grabbed them and headed off in search of the table.

She found it quickly. She'd been to his place enough times to know where almost everything was. Though she'd never actually been out on the balcony before, it was easy to spot the open door because of the curtains that hung in front of it, dancing along with the music as the breeze blew through them.

Stepping out, the night air hit her immediately and she was actually surprised by it. She thought it would be cold. It should have been cold, well, chilly at least. Winter was beginning to die away and the first signs of spring were making an appearance, but she hadn't really paid much attention to the weather itself. She'd been too preoccupied lately to feel the changes in the temperature.

It was a pleasant night. The wind blew gently, as if the breeze was little more than a sigh. The sound of the music seemed louder now. She found two speakers sitting right outside the door that were responsible for that. _If you don't know me by now_ floated from them, the song a perfect match for the movement of the air. Soft and slow, easy and gentle.

A small round table was set up in the middle of the balcony covered in a stark white tablecloth, cluttered with what she assumed was the 'good' china. A vase holding a single, perfect yellow rose and two gold taper candle holders occupied the center. The tall white candles were unlit, but a book of matches sat off to the side. On a whim, she set the bottle and glasses on the table, light one of the matches and held to the flame to each of the candles in turn. The soft, yellow glow from them lite the small space with just the right amount of light without being too bright. It fit the mood, soft and gentle.

She didn't care what he told her. This little set up in front of her practically screamed, **Date**. She wondered why he hadn't just admitted that. Then it occurred to her that she was probably the reason. He was playing it safe with her, like he always did. She didn't know whether to appreciate that at this point or scream at him. They were walking such a thin line and it blurred so often she was almost tired of trying to keep the balance.

But she knew that that wasn't nearly a good enough reason to push things between them before she was ready.

She stepped to the railing as she waited for him to find her and looked out over the vast city below her. The twinkle of lights on the street below seemed somehow at odds with the mood of the evening he had obviously painstakingly prepared, so she looked up instead and found to her surprise a night sky clear of clouds. Several stars did their best to compete with the city lights and the moon set low on the horizon, a large, full, ball of light shining down on them from on high.

She let out a little sigh of contentment as she took it all in.

"I know, right?" his voice came from directly over her shoulder. She hadn't heard him approach and she jumped at his sudden appearance. "You have no idea the strings I had to pull, in order to get the weather to cooperate like this. It was terrible, but I think it was worth the trouble."

She laughed as she turned to him. "You're right it was worth it. This is beautiful. Thank you for inviting me."

"Inviting you?" His eyebrows raised immediately. "I did all this for you."

Her breath caught in her throat and she wasn't sure how to respond.

When the silence began to stretch for too long, he took her elbow and lead her back to the table. "The food is getting cold. We should eat." he mumbled. His face appeared a little crestfallen. She wasn't exactly sure what he had been expecting her to do but clearly nothing wasn't it.

"This looks delicious." she told him as she settled into her chair and inhaled the aroma of the food deeply.

"I know a guy who taught me a few things. I send him a signed copy of my latest book and he sends me recipes and tips in exchange." he explained.

"Do I know this guy?" she asked, suddenly curious.

"You might," he nodded.

"Alright, who is it?" she pressed, impatiently.

"I'm not supposed to tell anyone where I get my recipes. It's part of our deal." he answered as he poured the wine.

"Castle!" she urged him more forcefully.

"Bobby doesn't want people to know that he sends me his secrets." he smiled wickedly.

"Bobby Flay sends you recipes in exchange for your books?"

"I didn't say that," he immediately denied.

The food was excellent and she devoured it heartily. The wine he had selected suited it perfectly and they were halfway through the bottle by the time they both sat back from their plates. It was a little unnerving that they both seemed to reach that point at the same moment, almost like they had planned it that way.

"Tell me what's been going on with you," he said as they simultaneously set their napkins aside.

"Nothing," she answered with a weary sigh. "Absolutely nothing has been going on with me. How about you, what brought all this on?"

He took his glass of wine and nearly drained it in one gulp. "A friend of mine from college passed away yesterday. He had a heart attack," he announced completely out of the blue.

She was shocked at his admission and sat up a little straighter in her chair, studying him more carefully, searching for any signs that he wasn't alright. "I'm so sorry. Were you close?"

He shook his head. "No, We were in the same fraternity, but I haven't seen him since we graduated. It was the fact of the thing that got me thinking."

"What do you mean?" she wanted to know.

He got up from his chair and just stood there for a moment. "As you are well aware, I don't spend a lot of time letting reality creep into my carefully constructed world. In fact, I do my best to avoid it." He paused and shook his head ruefully. "But this got to me somehow. He was so young. It was all I could think when I heard the news. I guess it just reminded me of my own mortality."

"And that inspired all this?" she smiled as she gestured around at their surroundings.

"It inspired me to take a moment out of life to stop and smell the roses," he answered, suavely plucking the rose from its vase and offering it to her. "And I couldn't think of anyone I wanted to smell them with more than you."

She took it and brought it to her nose to take in its scent. The poignant aroma was heavenly.

His hand was still outstretched towards her and she looked at it expectantly.

"I wonder if you might consider indulging me with a dance?" he said.

She looked at his hand a moment longer before, taking it and letting him pull her to her feet, after she set the rose aside.

His other arm immediately wrapped around her waist as he pulled her into him, closely but not too closely.

Her head fell to his shoulder and rested there comfortably. He was like the best teddy bear she'd ever owned. Nothing in the world could make her feel as safe and protected as she felt while wrapped up in his deceptively strong arms. He was so much stronger than anyone really gave him credit for. There was an underlying hardness in him that said there was nothing he wouldn't do, no length he wouldn't go to in order to protect those close to him.

As he started to gently sway with her, she smiled as she recognized _Chances are_ flowing from the speakers. It seemed somehow perfectly suited for them at the moment and she let the feel of him so close to her and the sound of the music carry her away, melting into the moment, nice and slow.

"Just because my composure sort of slips the moment that your lips meet mine," he began to sing quietly into her ear, moving her hair with his breath as the words escaped.

"Chances are you think my heart's your Valentine," she joined him, her voice nothing more than a soft murmur against his chest.

His hand gripped hers where it rested over his heart. Her other hand tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. She could feel the heat of his hand spanning the small of her back as he held her tightly against him.

"In the magic of moonlight, when I sigh hold me close dear. Chances are you believe the stars that fill the skies are in my eyes," they went on together, their voices combining perfectly just as they bodies were. "Guess you feel you'll always be the one and only one for me, and if you think you could, well, chances are you're chances are awfully good."

When the song ended and he didn't pull away or let her go she felt like she should have tensed, but she just could not make herself do it. She was too content to stay right where she was.

He finally did pull back, but only far enough to look down at her. She felt him shift and turned her face upward towards his.

"Kate," he whispered breathlessly.

His heart was beating so hard against her cheek she thought it might escape any minute. She was a little abashed to find that hers was mimicking it perfectly.

"Rick," she replied in exactly the same tone he had used.

It was all just too easy and too overwhelming. He had no idea what he was thinking anymore. Standing there in the moonlight, dancing with her in his arms. He had no clue what had brought him to where he was at that moment in time, but he did know that if one of them didn't move and quickly, he was going to kiss her.

The death of his college friend had thrown him just like he'd told her it had. But there was more to it than he wanted her to know, or maybe more than he was willing to admit to himself. It had reminded him, in a rather in-your-face sort of way how precious little time there was in one life time. And every moment he spent away from her felt like time wasted. He didn't think he could afford to waste anymore. So much had passed already.

He had been determined not to push her. He wanted to wait for her to come to him. He wanted her to be ready. But the phone call about the death had shoved all of to the wayside. Now he just wanted her. He needed her to know how he felt about her before he woke up one day and there was no time left to tell her. He couldn't afford to risk it, especially considering the sorts of things they went up against on a daily basis.

It wasn't the first time these thoughts had played through his head. After the freezer, after the bomb, it had begun to press down on him, the urgency of it all. Then he'd managed to talk himself down, especially with Josh convenviently there standing in the way.

But now there was no Josh, no fail safe. Nothing to stop him from letting her know what was going on in his head. Nothing except the fact that she was still terrified beyond reason. He could see it in her larger than normal, green, Bambi-like eyes as she blinked up at him. He could feel it as her body trembled in his arms. Her heart was beating so hard, he could feel it even through the material of her charcoal gray shirt.

He desperately wished, for just one moment, he could really read her mind. He needed to reassure himself that he was making the right choice here. He needed to know that kissing her now while they were here like this was a good plan.

But good plan or not, right choice or not, he simply couldn't keep himself from leaning into her and brushing his lips ever so gently across hers. It was a feather light touch and it took everything in him to keep it that way. When her hand closed around his bicep and gently squeezed, all bet's were off. Just like the kiss they'd shared before, their eyes locked for an instant, both of them registering the fact that all this was really happening, then she pulled him down to her and kissed him like he'd dreamed about.


	7. Chapter 7

She couldn't breathe. She simply couldn't breathe. There was nothing she could do to force the air into her starving lungs. Her body panicked as the desperate need inside her started to consume her. Her hands clenched into fists around his shirt and something in her had the presence of mind to notice how soft the material was.

His arms were securely holding her against the hardness of his chest. She was grateful for that. If he hadn't been there, she was afraid her wobbly knees would have failed her. Her entire body was shaking so badly it was making her light-headed. Or maybe it was his lips gliding over hers causing the dizziness. Either way, her world was shifting on its axis around her and she was having a hard time figuring out which way was up.

Then he made a noise, a deep, needy, urgent sound that came from far back in his throat and he pulled her even closer as his tongue flicked over her quivering lips. She opened her mouth to him, allowing him to deepen the kiss further still as her hand came up to bury itself in his entirely too soft hair.

It was exactly everything she had imagined and so much more. She wasn't sure she could process it all. The whole world crumbled around her and once again, he was the only beam of shining warmth in a place of darkness. Nothing mattered beyond him and what he was doing to her body with just a simple kiss.

Well, there was nothing simple in the kiss.

She felt surrounded by him. He was all she knew. His scent permeated the air. His warmth enveloped her in a tight cocoon. His lips were firm yet yielding under hers. It was insane how much she wanted this man.

The need to breathe drove her back from him, carrying her out of his arms and giving her the space she needed to think. She almost stumbled in her retreat. Her clumsiness had nothing to do with the kiss now and everything to do with the look on his face. If she had shot him, he wouldn't have looked as surprised.

"Kate," he whispered again, pleadingly this time.

She turned her back on him and made a bee line for the table, snatching her glass and draining it dry in one hearty gulp.

Before she could turn back to him again, he was behind her, his hand resting gingerly on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped," he apologized. It sounded like the words were somehow caught in his throat and he'd had a hard time pushing them out.

A deep breath later she was ready to face him again. That was until the moment she actually did it. The look was still there, so lost and confused. He looked as if his entire world had just been jerked out from under him and it killed her that she was responsible for that.

"You didn't overstep," she managed when at last she could. "I was just surprised."

"Surprised?" he asked, moving a hair closer to her. "How could you possibly be surprised? You had to have known it was coming."

She squirmed against his nearness. The kiss hadn't surprised her. Of course, she knew it was coming. In fact, she'd been eagerly anticipating it from the moment he asked her to dance. "No," she tried to explain and found that the words failed her. This was his area. She was no good at it. "I wasn't surprised that you kissed me."

His face lost all signs of confusion and took on something else entirely. "If you weren't surprised that I kissed you, what was it then?" His tone said he already knew the answer. So did she, she just wasn't sure she could say it aloud.

It was the kiss itself that surprised her. They both knew it. They both felt it. What surprised her was how incredibly good it was. She'd never experienced anything so powerful in her life and now she was running away because that's what Kate did when emotions became too much for her.

She took a deep breath and ran her hands through her hair. "Maybe we should call it a night. It's getting kind of late."

He chuckled as he folded his arms over his chest and took a step backward, effectively blocking her path to the door. "No," he said simply.

"No?" she questioned, her hackles instantly responding to the challenge he was apparently laying before her.

"That's what I said," he intoned firmly.

"I heard what you said. I want to know exactly what you meant," she demanded, her voice taking on an edge she couldn't stop.

"I meant I'm not letting you leave this time. There will be no running away tonight," he answered.

"You're not letting me leave?" she spat angrily. " You can't keep me here. So thank you for dinner. It was wonderful. Now get the hell out of my way."

"No," he replied again, completely nonplussed.

"Castle, move. Now."

He moved alright, but it wasn't the way she was hoping. Instead of stepping aside, he moved back further into the doorway, making sure she couldn't just dart past him. If she wanted him to move, she was going to have to move him. It was written all over his face. His arms crossed over his chest and his feet firmly planted told her as much. But the look on his face, stubborn and defiant told her more so.

"We are having this out. Right now," he informed her. "How about we start with you telling me what exactly it is you're running from?"

"I'm not running. I'm leaving. There's a difference," she replied, still contemplating simply moving him. She could. She wouldn't even have to try very hard.

"Yes, you are and no, you're not," he said smugly. "Tell me what surprised you. Tell me why you pulled away."

"Castle," she warned him again, using her best 'Mommy' voice. It usually worked on him. This time however he just jutted his chin out and planted his feet even further apart as if he were spoiling for the fight that was about to ensue. She didn't think he knew how right he was. The longer he stood there, looking at her like that, demanding things from her, the more angry she got.

No one told her what she was going to do or not do. No one demanded things from her, not even him.

Then suddenly his arms dropped to his sides and he was moving. Before she had a chance to react he was right in front of her, too close for her anger level.

"Why are you so afraid of me, of this, of us? Why can't you just stop and let this happen?" he said, drawing closer still. "We both know it's going to."

"I am not afraid of you," she insisted. "And I don't know what you're talking about."

He chuckled again and lowered his eyes. "Really, Kate? That's how you're going to play this? Plausible deniability seems a little beneath you."

"Back off, Castle." Again, she warned him and again he ignored her threat.

She watched as he gritted his teeth and glared at her. "I swear if you call me Castle one more time, I'll kiss you again."

She almost did it. The word was on the tip of her tongue just begging to be set free. And it wasn't a desire to be in his arms again that drove her now. No, that was the last thing she wanted at the moment. Well, maybe not the last thing There was always a huge part of her that wanted nothing more than to be in his arms. But now it was simply the fact that she couldn't stand to back down from a challenge, especially, for some reason, when he was the one issuing it.

"Talk to me, Kate." His voice was lower now, no longer angry. "Just talk to me. No matter what else is going on with us, we've always been able to talk to each other."

She could feel her resolve breaking, see it crumbling a little more with every word he spoke. Still the fear that settled deep in the pit of her stomach wouldn't budge and it was too large for her to ignore. "I can't do this."

"Do what? Let me in? I'm already there. I've been there for a while now. You just haven't let yourself admit it. But aren't you tired? I know I am."

She took a step back and felt the table behind her, leaving her with nowhere to go. "I don't know what you want me to say," she said finally.

"All I want from you is for you to be honest with me. Be honest with yourself. The reason you were surprised, wasn't because I kissed you. It was because it felt so damn good."

Her breath caught in her throat even as she opened her mouth to deny his words. There was no way she could make herself admit that to him. She decided a change of subject might be in order, talking about the kiss was just not an option for her. "How about you be honest with me first? Tell me the real reason you asked me here tonight. I'm not stupid. This was never about two friends hanging out. Look around, this was a seduction scene. How many times have you used this setup?" she hissed, falling back on her anger to save her.

He looked stricken for a moment, but it was only a moment. He recovered quickly. "I wasn't planning this. That wasn't my intention when I invited you over." he maintained.

It was her turn to chuckle. "A candlelight dinner, wine and music. I'm supposed to believe that this is the same thing you do for all your buddies. I bet your writer friends really appreciate the effort. Especially the candlelight dance. That is a nice touch."

"Alright," He took a deep breath. "I'll admit that my intentions may not have been strictly platonic. But I didn't notice you complaining."

"You brought me here under false pretenses. And now I'm leaving." She made a move to step around him. His presence was just too much for her, his nearness, too close. She needed some distance and fast.

"I already told you that I'm not letting you leave this time. It's time to stop running from this, Kate." His words did nothing but spur her anger on.

"Exactly what is it that you think you can do to stop me?" she demanded.

"This," he breathed, quickly closing the distance between them and grabbing her.

She was just about to protest when his lips found hers again and again she was lost.

It was different this time. He was different. What had been reverent and tender before was now hungry and demanding. Her hands balled into fists in his shirt. His gripped her waist, fingers flexing into her flesh almost punishingly.

He didn't just gently swipe his tongue over her lips this time, he nipped and when she opened them, their teeth gnashed against each other's loudly. He was no longer leisurely exploring her. He was trying to swallow her whole. The words rang out in her mind, reminding her of the ones she'd used on the phone two nights before.

Her chest heaved with the need for oxygen, yet she ignored it, unable to force herself to pull away this time.

One of his hands was doing something to her pant's pocket. It felt as if something was vibrating against her hip. She couldn't for the life of her figure out how he was doing it. Then she realized that both of his hands were still at her waist and the vibrating on her hip was her phone.

She chose to ignore it. Neither of her hands were willing to leave him long enough to grab it. The one in his hair was holding him as close to her as possible. The other was clinging to his shoulder in what might have been desperation. Both of them were fairly happy right where they were. Besides, there was no way she could answer the phone right then. Coherent thought was beyond her.

One of his hands moved from her waist to the small of her back, bringing the lower half of her more firmly against him. He shifted, angling his face into a better position as he continued to assault her senses with his kiss.

The vibrating continued relentlessly until finally the hand still at her waist slipped into her pocket and snatched it from its depths.  
>She took a breath to steady herself as she reached for it, but he pushed the button and put it to his own ear instead.<p>

"What?" he growled into the receiver. There was a pause as he listened for a moment, then he huffed and rolled his eyes. He made a couple of quick comments into the phone before snapping it shut and thrusting it back at her. "We have a body," he ground out between gritted teeth.

They gathered their things together silently, securing everything in the living room before shutting the balcony door and locking it. There was no telling how long they'd be at the crime scene. They couldn't risk leaving his loft unsecured like that.

Kate decided it was best not to speak to him. He was moving around jerkily, tossing things and mumbling under his breath. By the time they grabbed their jackets and headed for the door, he was furious. Every move he made said so.

Just as she reached out to turn the knob and open the door, all the air went out of her lungs as she suddenly found herself with her back against the wall and Castle hoovering over her, pressing his presence into her. "This is not over, Kate. We are going to talk about this."

Her tongue came out to lick her lips and she felt her heartbeat skip in her chest. She wasn't expecting the reaction, but something about his decidedly forceful demeanor was having an effect on her. More of an effect than she intended for him to know about.

She pushed against him, sending him stumbling in the opposite direction. "I don't know what makes you think you can suddenly toss me around like some kind of toy you're mad at, but I'm telling you that if you do it again, I will shoot you," she warned him. "But you're right about one thing, we are definitely going to talk later." She shot out the door before he could respond, leaving him with a confused, befuddled look on his face.

Rick Castle was not a man that was angered easily. His normally pleasant, easy-going demeanor had to take quite a beating before it began to wear thin. But a beating was exactly what it had been taking, for far longer than he imaged it could endure. He was out of patience. Now he was just plain pissed off.

He stepped out of Kate's car grumpily after a tense ride to the crime scene. Neither of them had spoken during the drive. But Kate managed to keep up her end of the silent conversation between them by casting glares at him every chance she got. He returned them all with equal contempt.

He was just so damned tired of it all. His patience had reached its limits. This had to be over, one way or another. He couldn't keep letting her dangle him on her finger like this. His friend's death had made one thing crystal clear to him, that it was time to 'put up' or 'shut up'. There was no getting around it anymore.

He couldn't just be her friend any longer. He couldn't keep waiting around for her to figure it out. Especially not now with the taste of her still on his tongue. Now that it was out there, now that she knew full well how good it could be, if she still intended to keep him at arm's length, he would have no choice but to walk away. There would be no way he could stay.

The thought was so sobering it nearly made him stagger. Life without Kate was impossible to imagine. He wasn't sure he'd survive giving her up.

They said no more than necessary to each other at the scene. Everyone noticed. No one asked. It was best that way. How could he possibly explain what was happening between them?

It was well after midnight by the time they wrapped up the crime scene. He watched as a thirty-five year old mother of two young children was loaded into the back of a corner's van with Lanie at her side. The image did nothing for his mood.

Casting a gaze around him, his attention landed on the woman's husband where he sat on the steps of his brownstone talking to Ryan and Esposito. He had no idea where Kate was. He hadn't seen her in a few minutes and that in itself was weird. Usually they were side by side during an investigation. He was the one to step away this time when it became obvious that the tension between them was disrupting their ability to do their job.

His frown hardened. No, it was disrupting her ability to do her job. This wasn't his job. This wasn't his world. And he wondered, as he often did, how he wound up there.

The lights from the van died away in the distance as he watched a second before a hand landed on his shoulder. He turned quickly to find Esposito with a look of concern furrowing his brow.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked, leaning beside Castle. They were both lounging against Kate's car with their arm's crossed over there chest, Castle looking off into the distance and his friend, his buddy, Esposito watched him worriedly.

It struck him suddenly that Kate wasn't the only thing he had to lose if she forced him away. He had made a place for himself at the twelfth. It was almost a home away from home for him. He had people there, people that cared, people he cared about, too.

"Let's just say the evening didn't turn out as I had planned," he muttered dejectedly.

"Damn," Javier answered in the same tone, shaking his head sadly. "I had high hopes."

Castle sighed. "So did I."

"What are you going to do now?" There was something in the younger man's voice. Something sad and somehow final, like he was preemptively saying goodbye to him.

"I'm not sure. But we can't go on like this," Castle told him.

"Who can't go on?" Ryan asked, stepping up to them. "Am I interrupting a moment? Is there something you two would like to share?"

His attempt at humor went unanswered. Both men just looked at him and he began to shift awkwardly. Then he huffed and came to Castle's side, mimicking the same posture as they had adopted. "I'm sorry. I thought a laugh might help."

"Not this time, Man. But thanks for making the effort," Castle told him.

"I take it things did not go well," he assumed.

"You could say that."

"What can we do to help?" he offered generously.

"Nothing," Castle answered. "This is something we've going to have to work out on our own."

"Just tell me you aren't thinking of leaving," There was almost a pleading quality to his voice.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," he replied. "But I'm not done yet."

Ryan peeled himself off the car and came to stand in front of him. "Don't give up on her. If you think this is worth fighting for, then fight for it. She's stubborn, but she's also reasonable. Sooner or later, she'll get it."

He mustered a smile. "You know me better than that. I don't ever give up without a fight and she hasn't seen me fight yet."

Both men smiled at him in return. "That's what I'm talking about," Esposito congratulated him.

"Whatever we can do," Ryan repeated with a fit bump.

"What are exactly are we celebrating ?" Kate asked as she stepped up to the car.

Javier immediately stood, taking himself off her car. Ryan jammed his hands into his pockets and looked away.

"Castle was just telling us about his latest chapter," Ryan lied awkwardly.

She nodded. "I'm sure he was," she replied coldly.

Castle didn't move. He was, in fact, pointedly ignoring her, looking anywhere but at her. He knew the moment he did the anger would be back full throttle.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her go around to the driver's side of the car and open the door.

"Are you coming?" she asked him.

They glared at each other over the hood of the car as they both got in and slammed their doors. As soon as he was settled, he saw Javier making a sign with his thumb and pinkie to his ear, 'Call me', in the side mirror. Castle nodded slowly at him in return.

"Are you really discussing our personal life with my co-workers?" she demanded as she pulled into traffic.

Castle clamped his lips shut and swallowed hard. "Are you really admitting we have a personal life?" he countered.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. How could you do that?" she hissed. She wasn't just angry now she was livid.

"I didn't say anything to them," he defended himself. "I came to the car to get out the way."

She rolled her eyes. "And, of course, your sad little puppy dog eyes brought your entourage running."

He turned to her sharply. "Are you blaming me because the people you work with like me and care about you? I'm supposed to believe that you didn't say a word to Lanie about us after I walked away?"

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "This is exactly what I knew was going to happen."

He raised his hand and dropped it dramatically to his thigh. "Ah, here it comes. And when it comes right down to it, it was my fault. I just gave you the perfect excuse. How convenient that must be for you!"

"It's not an excuse, it's reality. I will not let anything interfere with my ability to do my job."

"Now I'm an interference. That's funny, yesterday I was your partner."

She cut her eyes towards him. "You're the one that changed that, not me. You just had to push."

He huffed out an angry gush of air. "As opposed to what, Kate? Waiting around for another Dr. Motorcycle Boy to show up?"

"What does Josh have to do with this?" she wanted to know. Then another look crossed her face and her glare deepened. "Is that what you were doing, just waiting around until Josh was gone so you could make your move?"

"Kate, you know that's not what tonight was about."

She stopped the car at the entrance to his building, sitting double parked, waiting on him to get out. "What was it about, getting me into your bed? Was I supposed to be the latest notch on your bedpost by morning?"

He felt all the air leave his body in a gush that staggered him. How could she possibly believe that? "When was the last time you saw me add a notch to my bedpost?" he spat. "Damn it, Kate! Don't you get it?"

"Apparently not. Why don't you enlighten me?" Her arms were crossed but she had turned in her seat to see him better.

All the anger seemed to rush out of him, leaving nothing but sadness and despair in it's wake. "What do I have to do to make you see what's going on here? I thought I was being pretty obvious."

"Maybe you could come right out and say it. That might be a good place to start." she offered, unhelpfully.

He almost did. The words were bubbling in his chest. He wanted to tell her. He desperately needed her to know, but he couldn't. Not like this, not now. He would not have the memory of his first declaration of love for her be tainted with anger and contempt.

Besides, he had no idea how she would respond and it was too much to risk. Right now, he might be able to fix this. There was still a chance. Maybe not immediately, but the chance remained all the same. But if he crossed that line, if he said those words, out loud and to her face, her reaction might well decide their fate. He could not take the chance of it being a bad one. The odds were not on his side.

So he retreated. It killed a little piece inside of him, but he did it all the same. Sometimes, things had to be done for the bigger picture.

Without another word, he opened the door and stepped out of her car, slamming the door behind him.


	8. Chapter 8

Kate gasped as she bolted upright in her bed. A layer of sweat covered her and her chest heaved as she tried to draw in air. Her hand automatically shoot out to the nightstand and she grabbed her phone without thought.

A moment before she hit the send button, she froze and a cold, heavy lump formed in the pit of her stomach.

Darkness surrounded her and right then she wanted nothing more than to reach out to her shining beam of warmth, but he wasn't there. Or maybe he was, but it didn't matter. She couldn't call him and it made her chest constrict. A rash of hot tears sprang to her eyes. She batted them away angrily.

It had been so long since she'd had to do it, it took her some time to remember what she did before him. Then she pushed the buttons on her phone that would connect her.

A moment later a groggy voice answered with a whispered, "Hello."

"I'm so sorry," Kate began. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Lanie cleared her throat and Kate heard the rustling of blankets, then a man's voice in the background.

Lanie said something she couldn't hear then came back on the line. "I've been expecting you, to tell the truth. I figured I'd hear from you earlier."

"I slept for a while. Then I had a nightmare," Kate explained.

"Give me fifteen minutes," Lanie told her. "I'm on my way and I'm bringing the ice cream."

"Screw ice cream," Kate replied. "Bring liquor."

And true to her word, as always, she arrived fifteen minutes later at her door with a pint of Ben and Jerry's and a bottle of Tequila.

"I even remembered to grab the salt and limes while I was in the grocery store," Lanie proudly proclaimed.

Once they were settled with spoons for the ice cream and shot glasses for the liquor, Lanie turned to her. "Alright, tell me everything and don't leave anything out."

Kate laughed. "I'm not sure if I should. Part of the fight was about him talking to people we work with about us. Won't that be a little hypocritical of me?"

"No, it was ridiculous to get mad over something like that to begin with. So now we know that you at least owe him an apology over that. Now, what else did you do?" Lanie explained.

Kate widened her eyes at her friend, watching her as she poured the first shot. Kate clutched the ice cream tighter into her chest and dug the spoon in a little deeper.

"Why are you so convinced I did something wrong? You're my friend. Aren't you supposed to be asking me what that mean old man did to me?" Kate protested.

"It's because I'm your friend that I suspect it was more your fault than his," she replied, tartly.

She bit the end of the spoon, while setting the carton aside and letting her head fall back against the blue, floral couch cushion. "I don't know why I keep doing things like this," she said tiredly.

"Because it's who you are," Lanie answered, handing her the shot. "And we wouldn't want you any other way. We just wish that sometimes you weren't so stubborn. Now tell."

She took a long, deep breath and let it out slowly. "He made me dinner," she began. "And there were candles and music on the balcony."

Lanie shook her head woefully. "That bastard."

"But he lied about the whole thing," she protested, after throwing a pillow in her friend's direction. "He said it wasn't a date. He told me that wasn't what it was about. And now I think he set up the entire night just to get me in bed."

Lanie threw her shot back and nearly choked on it at hearing what Kate was saying. "You think he made this elaborate dinner with the music and candles just to sleep with you?"

She threw her own shot back and held the glass out for another. "It was a set up, Lan, you should have seen it. I just couldn't help wondering how many other times he'd done the same thing. Which number was I?"

After pouring the drink, Lanie said, "As long as you're the last, what difference does it make how many were there before you?" She took a shot, following it with the lime and salt. "The way I see it, the higher the number the more chance for them to figure out what they're doing before they get to me."

"But how could he do that to me? I'm supposed to be special," she sighed dejectedly.

"Oh, don't give me that crap. I'm not even going to indulge you there," Lanie scolded her.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

Lanie sighed, threw back another shot and made a face. "It means that you know very well that you are special. You're grasping at straws to find a reason to be mad at him because being mad is how you deal. So what's really going on?"

Kate tossed back the drink in her hand and followed it with another. "He kissed me."

Lanie turned to her slowly as if she wasn't sure she'd heard her correctly. When Kate refused to look at her she knew she was right. "Now those are the details I've been waiting for. What did you do?"

She shook her head sadly. "I freaked and pushed him off of me."

"Why the hell did you do that?" she demanded. "Is he a sloppy kisser? I hate that. It's almost a deal breaker for me."

Kate could feel the warmth of a blush rising in her cheeks as she tried to contain her smile at remembering how his lips felt on hers. "No, he isn't a sloppy kisser."

"Wow, that must have been some kind of kiss." Lanie replied at seeing her not-so-well hidden reaction.

"It was," she answered before she could filter herself.

"Okay, so what is the problem?"

Kate took one of the blue pillows from beside her and bunched it up in her lap. Then she leaned into it and let out a scream. "I know this is going to sound insane, but it was just too good."

Lanie sat up a little straighter. "Too good? You are serious, right?"

"Yes, I'm serious. I don't think you understand," she went on.

Her friend shook her head in dismay. "Oh, I understand, alright. I understand that you need to be on the phone trying to fix this instead of sitting here with me."

"I can't call him. We had a huge fight and it was all my fault, apparently, but I can't just call him. I don't even know what to say to him."

"I'm sorry might be a good jumping off place," Lanie commented, dryly.

Kate's eyes widened at the suggestion. "Just like that? I'm just supposed to call him up and say 'I'm sorry'?"

Lanie laughed. "Yeah, you might be surprised how well it works. He's a good guy and he's so in love with you it's painful to watch sometimes. Make the next move and call him before he thinks you really don't care and decides it's time to move on." Then her eyes fell to the Kate's phone where it was lying, turned off, on the coffee table. "How do you know he isn't trying to call you? Your phone is off."

"If you'd been there for the last conversation we had, you'd know he wasn't trying to call me," she answered, dishearteningly.

"Well then, I guess you'll have to call him," Lanie answered.

"It's half past one in the morning. I'm not going to call him right now," Kate insisted.

Lanie put her hand on her hip and cocked her head to the side. "Because calling him at one in the morning is something so unusual for you. You stopped calling me at all hours so I can only assume that he's the one that took my place."

Kate looked down and away instead of answering.

"Want me to leave you alone to make the call or would you rather I stay?" she prompted.

"I'll wait and call him in the morning," she repeated.

"Now," Lanie crossed her arms over her chest. "In the morning, there will be work and all kinds of distractions."

Kate leaned forward and reached for the phone. It went to voice mail without him answering. She couldn't help the tears that formed in her eyes. He wasn't answering her calls. He was avoiding her.

Lanie put her hand on her shoulder, comfortingly. "This make take more groveling than I expected."

Before she had a chance to set the phone aside, it rang and the caller I.D. surprised her.

"Martha? What's wrong?" she asked as soon as the phone was to her ear. "Where's Castle?"

"Oh Darling, I've been trying to get in touch with you. You have to come quick. Richard's been stabbed."

Rick Castle was having a hard time remembering the events before the searing pain in his chest began.

It seemed the pain had been there all night, perhaps not as debilitating as it was now, but still as sharp, as harsh.

He remembered it started as he stood on the sidewalk outside of his building, watching her taillights get swallowed up by the city around them. He remembered not wanting to turn his back on them until they were completely gone. And when they were, he had never felt so alone in the world.

His steps were slow and weighted as he made his way inside. The elevator ride was torturous, the slow, steady rise felt as if it took hours.

His keys felt cold and burdensome in his hand as he unlocked the door and stepped into the vast, quiet, emptiness of his loft.

No one was home yet. He had been holding on to the small hope that Alexis and his mother had made it back. Now that hope was dashed as well. It seems to be the theme for his evening. Dashed hopes and unrealized expectations.

It didn't take him long to find a bottle of scotch, the good stuff that he hid from everyone else, and make his way to the living room.

He was halfway through it when the front door finally opened and the two other women in his life stepped inside.

Alexis was the one that found him and she hadn't wasted anytime coming to putting her arm's around him, snuggling into his side and hugging him tightly. He had the best daughter in the world, hands down.

"Oh, Richard, what did you do?" his mother had asked from the doorway when she found him, too.

"I don't really know," he mumbled out and was ashamed at how slurred his speech sounded even to him. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought it was time to do something."

Alexis still hadn't let him go and his words were a touch muffled in her strawberry blond hair. "It's okay, Dad," she assured him. "We'll fix it."

"That's just it," he insisted. "I don't know what I'm supposed to fix."

His phone sounded from his pocket and he pulled away from his daughter far enough to answer it.

"Castle." he quipped without even bothering to see who it was.

"Are you alight, man?" Javier asked them the other end.

"I'm alright," he assured his friend.

"Kev and I are just finishing up at the precinct. We were wondering if you wanted to go grab a drink."

Castle sighed. He really wouldn't mind, but the thought of how angry she would be if she found out stopped him cold. He was apparently already in enough trouble. "Mother and Alexis just got home. So I'm going to have to get a rain check," he replied as nicely as possible. He really was touched that the offer had been made. It meant a lot that they considered him one of the guys and wanted to be there for him.

"Alright, but call me if you change your mind," he answered, before they disconnected.

His mother stepped up to him and held out her hand.

"What?" he asked dumbfounded by what she could want from him.

"Give me your phone," she told him.

"What? No," he replied, clutching the devise tighter in his hand.

"Richard, you are sitting there with a bottle of scotch in one hand, the phone in the other and a broken heart. Give it to me before you do something stupid that you can't fix," she insisted.

"She's right, Dad. Just give her the phone. You can have it back when you're sober," Alexis agreed.

He sighed tiredly as he placed the phone in her outstretched palm. "Again, your confidence in me is astounding." he muttered. "Please, keep it on, though. We are in the middle of an investigation."

Martha chuckled as she slipped the phone into her pocket. "I'll keep it on, but you aren't in any condition to investigate anything except a cup of coffee."

"I'm not as drunk as I think you are," he assured her without even realizing his mistake.

She laughed again and nodded sagely, "Of course not, Dear."

He threw his head back against the cushion behind him and stared up at the ceiling. "I just thought things were going to go differently," he confessed.

"Differently how?" Alexis asked. "What happened?"

"I made dinner. I thought that was okay. Then I just got so caught up in everything, there was wine and music and we were dancing."

"You pushed," Martha finished for him, settling into his other side.

He nodded. "I pushed. But isn't it time to push? I've been patient. I'm done with patient."

"I guess she still isn't ready," Alexis surmised.

He huffed and took another drink. "But I'm ready. It's time. This is getting ridiculous. I just don't understand why she's so scared of me." Then he raised his head and eyed both women warily. "Is it me? Am I a scary person? I don't mean to be. I try to be nice."

"Of course it's not you, Dear," Martha assured him as she patted his leg.

"No, Dad, you're great."Alexis answered at almost the same time. "Kate knows it, too."

He looked at her, narrowing his eyes. "How do you know? Have you talked to her about me?"

Alexis looked away from him and found the floor, staring at it, intently.

It was her tell. She knew something she wasn't telling.

"Tell me," he insisted.

"We weren't really talking about you," she tried to dodge.

"But she said something," He didn't bother to make it sound like a question. It was obvious he was right.

"She just said that something was happening and she asked if I was okay with that," she replied finally.

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her, of course I was okay with it," she said. "Then you came out of the bathroom and we didn't get a chance to say anything else."

"See, Richard. Kate sees it, too. You just have to be patient." Martha advised.

The longer he sat there, intermittently taking swigs from the bottle in his hand that neither woman had tried to take away from him, thank god, the more confined he felt. The walls appeared to be closing in on him and it felt as if all the air was being sucked out the room.

He got to his feet, proud of himself for wavering so little in the process, and set the bottle aside. It was now almost empty anyway. His mother could finish it off.

He needed to move. He needed air. He needed something he couldn't quite figure out.

"I need some air," he announced.

"Dad, you can't go out like you are," his daughter reminded him.

He turned and looked at her, holding his hands out to his sides. "What do you mean? How am I?"

His mother got to her feet and came to him. She took his arm and tried to lead him back to the couch. "Richard, Sweetheart, you're drunk. You can't go walking around the streets like that."

He resisted, planting his feet and refusing to budge. "But I need to get out of here. I just need to walk this off."

"Yes, well, all that will lead to is a night in the drunk tank at the jail," she replied, still pulling on his arm.

"I'll call a cab and go for a ride instead,"

"No," Martha answered. "If you leave this loft, you will end up on her doorstep. And what you need to do is give this some time to blow over."

"How do you know? Maybe she wants to talk to me, too."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out his phone. "If that were true she would have called you."

"Maybe she's trapped under something heavy and she can't get to the phone," he tried again.

"Maybe she's mad and needs some time to cool off."

"Maybe she's being held against her will and my showing up at her doorstep will create the distraction she needs to take the guy out." He looked to his daughter who was still perched on the couch watching the exchange intently. "You're a girl-"

"What am I?" Martha interrupted him. "Why is that you'll listen to her and not me?"

"You aren't a girl," Rick waved her off. "You're my mother." Then he turned his attention back to Alexis, ignoring Martha's scoffs of indignation. "You're a girl. Do you think she's just mad and needs to cool off, or do you agree with me that her life might be in peril and I need to rush to her at once?"

Her brow furrowed like she was really thinking about the answer. "I have to go with Grams on this one, Dad."

He threw his hands up at both of them. "It's a conspiracy," he muttered. "I thought you were supposed to be on my side."

"We are and that is why we are trying to talk you out of doing something stupid," Martha told him.

"Fine, then I'm going to bed," he announced.

He grabbed his bottle of scotch and took off towards his room.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay up and talk about it?" his mother called to his retreating back.

"No," he replied before slipping into the darkness of his room. "I'm going to bed."

It felt like hours that he waited, constantly checking to see if the lights in the front part of the loft were out yet.

He was eternally grateful when he finally heard his daughter's soft footsteps making their way up the stairs. He was even more grateful when the sound of his mother's heels followed soon after.

He was determined now. He needed to get to her, to see her, to talk all this out and get his happily ever after. He'd been a good boy, he deserved a little happily ever after.

Having finished off the rest of the bottle of scotch while he waited, he moved as stealthily as possible in his inebriated state. He was very proud that he only stumbled twice coming down the hall, once crossing the living room and once in the foyer. Considering the length of the journey, he figured he wasn't doing that badly.

By the time he got to the elevator, Kate was the only thing on his mind. He had to talk to her. He just had to. He couldn't let either of them go to sleep angry. He remembered reading somewhere, probably in one of Alexis' girly magazines, that you should never go to bed angry at your partner. He was her partner. Maybe not like he wanted to be, but her partner all the same. Now his mind was set. There was no other alternative. He had to talk this out with Kate before he could sleep, before she could sleep.

What if she was already asleep? he asked himself suddenly. What if he was too late to stop her?

"Evening, Mr. Castle," Murray, the doorman waved at him as he stepped off the elevator and into the lobby. "Can I get you a car? It's starting to rain out there. Not a good night for walking. I think I heard some thunder, too."

Castle stopped with his hand on the door and a refusal on his lips. Murray was right. It really was coming down. He wondered, inanely, where that had come from. There wasn't a cloud in the sky earlier.

"Yeah, I guess I need a car," he answered after briefly considering walking to her place in the pouring rain to confess his undying love for her. The romantic in him cheered at the notion. The pragmatist said he hated wearing wet clothes.

He waited impatiently for the cab to arrive, shifting his weight from one foot to another and wringing his hands together.

"Something's got you pretty uptight," Murray commented. "Is everything okay?"

Rick vividly remembered looking over at the man with a sudden sense of calm and purpose. It was as if something had leaned into his ear and told him that all he had to do was get to her. If he could just do that, everything would be alright. He'd taken a deep breath, releasing it along with all the anxiety that had been building in his stomach. Then he'd smiled. "I'm on my way to see a girl," he'd told Murray. "When I get to her, everything will be okay."

The cab picked that moment to pull up along the sidewalk.

He also remembered, vividly, squaring his shoulders and stepping out into the chilly, damp night air and thinking that in just a little while, if everything went his way, in just a little while, he might be holding her again.

That was the last thought he had before the searing pain in his chest and then nothing.


	9. Chapter 9

- It all felt so otherworldly. She had somehow found herself in a place where time no longer existed. There was no future, no tomorrow. It rested now on seconds and minutes. She just had to pull herself through the next minute of her life, then she could move on to the next, but beyond that, there was nothing.

And everything was moving so slowly. The traffic passing by them, the red lights that rotated on top of the ambulance, the paramedics, all of it seemed to be moving so slowly.

Rain still pelted down on her, but she'd long since lost the ability to care about it, if she had to begin with. Some little piece of her mind registered that it was cold. She was cold so deep in her bones, she couldn't even remember what warm felt like.

Her knees ached where they rested on the sidewalk, diligently holding up her weight.

Alexis was directly across from her, sitting on her father's other side and it occurred to her that not only was the young girl soaking wet from the rain, she was on the side where all the blood was coming from. Her pant legs were saturated with it.

And there was blood. So much blood, the deep crimson life fluid seeped from his shoulder at far too quick a pace.

She looked down into Richard Castle's unconscious face and wasn't sure whether she wanted to slap him for putting her through all this or kiss him for still being alive.

He was alive. His pulse was steady, despite the wound to his shoulder. And that was a miracle in itself. If it hadn't been for the quick action of the doorman, Murray, there would have been a much different scenario happening.

Murray had seen the man approaching Rick and got there just in time to tackle him to the ground, but not in time to save Rick from a nasty gash to his shoulder.

And all because Rick had killed Derrick Storm. It seemed so senseless.

The cop in her that had seen so much worse had to keep reminding the woman in her that it wasn't as bad as it looked. The woman in her couldn't get past the fact that he was lying there on the concrete with blood coming out of him. There should never be blood coming out of him. She never wanted to see Richard Castle's blood again. An irrational urge to try to somehow put it back in him left her knowing how upset she truly was.

It was more of a blow than she expected.

Of course, she'd prepared herself for the possibility that he might get hurt. She couldn't help it. She was sure he'd done the same. There was no avoiding thinking about such things in their line of work. Things went wrong sometimes especially when bad people and guns were involved, which they so often were.

But this was far worse than she'd anticipated.

The ambulance had arrived moments after she did and the paramedics had been working on him for a few minutes now. She was relieved to see they weren't moving at the frenzied pace that normally accompanied life or death situations. They were moving, but not as if they might lose him at any moment. That thought gave her a little comfort anyway.

She had to move when they began loading him on the gurney that would take him to the hospital. Her legs were numb as she shakily got to her feet and took a few steps back. She wasn't sure where to go until she saw the look on Alexis' face as she reluctantly let her father's hand go and stepped away from him as well.

Then her mission became suddenly clear.

"If anything ever happens to me, promise me that you'll look after Alexis," he'd asked her once, so long ago she could barely remember the situation leading to the conversation anymore.

She'd made that promise and now she was being forced to keep it. Damn him.

"He's going to be okay." She did her best to steady her voice as she moved over to the girl.

Alexis simply nodded, sending a curtain of strawberry blond hair into her face.

"Alexis," she said, louder, more firmly. She needed to get her attention. She was staring with unseeing eyes off into the distance. Kate could sympathize what the reaction. She was fighting against it herself.

"Alexis," she repeated once again and finally the girl turned her eyes to Kate. "He's going to be alright. It's just his shoulder. They'll have him patched up and good as new before you know it."

Alexis nodded again, slowly this time as if she wasn't really convinced. "Why isn't he awake?"

"I think it's just the alcohol reacting to the blood loss. It can often mimic the symptoms of shock," Lanie stepped up to them and said in her best clinical voice. "You said he'd had a lot to drink."

"He killed an entire bottle of scotch," Martha interjected from Alexis' side. "I'd say that's quite a lot. He doesn't really drink that often. Not like that."

Alexis' eyes trailed off to the crowd that had gathered around the scene as it unfolded. Several people had their cell phones. "He's going to think this is neat. He'll say it reminds him of the night John Lennon was killed." Her voice was quiet, distant, as if she were only half there with them.

Kate went to her and put her arm around her shoulder. "Yes, he will. And when he does, we'll throw something at him."

She chuckled at that, but a moment later, she turned her body into Kate's and buried her face in her shoulder.

"We're taking him to Lennox Hill, does one of you want to ride along?" one of the paramedics asked after they raised the gurney from the ground and started moving him towards the ambulance.

Kate looked down at Alexis and almost told her to go, but Martha stepped in before she had a chance.

"I'll take Alexis. You go with him. We'll meet you there," she told her in a 'take charge' voice that said she didn't want to be argued with.

Alexis pulled out of her arms and nodded. "Yeah, Kate, you should go with him. We'll be right behind you."

"I'll go home and get Javi. He would want to be there, too." Lanie added.

Kate nodded and took a deep breath. "Alright. If you're sure."

Alexis gave her a small, watery smile. "I'm sure. You belong there now. I'll be fine."

She didn't stop to really think about what the girl said until she was settled into the back of the ambulance, holding his hand as they pulled away from the curb.

_You belong there now. _The words struck her like a ton of bricks and suddenly she had no idea why she was so scared of all this. Alexis was right. She belonged here now. Everyone knew it but her.

No, that wasn't right. She knew it, too. She had known it for a long time. But the fear was still there. And now it wasn't fear of him that drove her. It was fear that somehow, someway, she was going to mess this up.

This was her chance. The only chance at happiness she might ever get. If she did something to damage that, like she was apt to do, she would never be able to forgive herself.

At least a large part of her anxiety was gone now. She no longer looked at him and thought, 'could he really be the one?'. There was no question of that in her mind anymore. Of course, he was. No one else in the world could possibly be as right for her as Rick Castle was.

So now with that gone, she was left with the question of whether she was ready or not. She wished she'd prepared herself better for this. Every girls had dreams of meeting their perfect mate and living happily ever after. She had done it to some extent. But the skeptic in her had never really been convinced that it would happen. She was a pragmatist. There was no Santa Clause, no Tooth Fairy, no Easter Bunny and fairy tales never happened in real life. They just didn't.

Now here she was. She had seen so much that proved her right. Spousal abuse, child abuse, domestic violence of every shape, form and outcome and somehow all it took for her to forget all that and believe in magic again was meeting him.

There were things in her life that before him she considered silly and inconsequential and now they were monumental and essential. The entire notion of true love had never been something she understood. Love was a simple thing. It was practical and it served a purpose. The process wasn't even that difficult in her eyes. When you're ready, find someone you can see yourself tolerating living with for the next fifty years and make it happen. Not hard at all.

Rick Castle had shown her that love was not simple at all. It was messy, complicated and downright painful at times. Those things should have sent her running. She couldn't understand why she kept subjecting herself to it. She didn't need messy, complicated and painful in her life. That wasn't what she was after in a relationship.

Then she realized that there was no way she could walk away from him now. No way she could live her entire life without hearing him laugh, or laughing with him. No way she could sustain any form of happiness if he wasn't a part of it.

Happiness was something she hadn't really understood before either. She knew what the sensation of contentment felt like, of course. But to her, happiness seemed bigger than that, more powerful. Now she knew why. And she was right. Contentment was the satisfied, yet somehow, lackluster feeling she'd experienced with both Demming and Josh. But happiness, true happiness was something she could only have with Rick. It was the way she felt when her cheeks hurt from smiling too long or too hard when he was around. It was the way her stomach flipped when he came into a room. It was the way her mouth went dry and a heavy lump formed when he gave her that cocked-eyed leer and lowered his voice to say something she was not going to approve of. It was the way she felt like such a freakin' childish groupie when she borrowed his shower while he was sick and the whole time she couldn't keep herself from imagining him standing right where she was naked and wet. It was the way she could not sit through an hour of television anymore without having to grab her phone and call him to discuss what she was watching. Nothing happened in her life anymore, nothing at all, that she didn't want to share with him. He had somehow made it in that deep, that completely. But real, true happiness, the kind she hadn't even been aware she was capable of, that was found in the almost certain knowledge that he felt the same way about her.

She looked down into the face of the man she was fairly sure she'd be gazing at for many years to come and smoothed back the hair from his brow with the hand not clutched in his.

"How long have you been married?" the slightly built, extremely young paramedic sitting beside her asked as he made some notes on a chart.

"We...we're not," she stammered and almost dropped his hand on reflex. She did quickly remove the one on his forehead. "I'm a cop. He's my partner."

"Oh, well," he gestured towards their hands still gripped tightly together. "I just thought..." He let the rest of the sentence trail off before regrouping and trying again. "He's going to be fine. Some stitches and some coffee, he'll be good as new."

She nodded and gave him a soft smile in return, grateful for his effort. She already knew it herself, Lanie and her own vast experience with wounds and trauma had already told her as much. Not much to hit that's vital in the shoulder. It would be sore, the wound was fairly deep, but he would be fine. And she also knew Lanie was right. The alcohol was the most likely candidate for being responsible for his unconsciousness. She knew the doctors would want x-rays to rule out a concussion since he wasn't awake and he had hit his head on the concrete, but the probability was in the alcohol's favor.

Still it was nice of the cute, little, blond man to try to ease her mind. She had a wildly inappropriate thought of shamelessly flirting with him, hoping that Castle would come to and catch them. The look on his face would be beyond priceless. That was his fault as well. He seemed to bring out the evil in her. Being around him somehow gave her permission to misbehave as well.

She caught a movement in his face and she snatched her eyes away from the boy.

"Kate?" he asked in a voice that sounded more weak and strained than she thought it should.

She leaned forward a touch more on her seat and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm right here."

"Where is here?" he asked, as he tried to sit up.

"Just lay still, Sir," the paramedic jumped in as he put a hand on Rick's shoulder to restrain him.

"We've heading to the hospital. You're going to be fine," she told him.

He settled back against the gurney and winced as he tried to move his shoulder. "My shoulder is killing me," he announced to the room in general. Then his eyes got wide as he registered the fact that the room was moving,and he tried to jump back from her. "I'm in an ambulance and my shoulder hurts, did you shoot me?" he demanded.

She almost couldn't contain her smile as she nodded and gave him a sad, rueful look. "I told you I was going to one of these days."

"Why?" he practically whined at her. "What did I do?"

"I didn't shoot you, Castle." she said, letting him off the hook.

Rick settled back onto the gurney and for some reason she couldn't help but take his hand again. She thought she saw him glance down at her touch, but he didn't comment on it. "Then who did?" he asked instead.

"Some lunatic you pissed off by killing Derrick Storm. He stabbed you right outside your building. Apparently you were just leaving to go somewhere. Martha said you had an entire bottle of scotch, so I have no idea where you'd be going like that." She hadn't meant to lecture him but somehow without her permission her voice began to take on that mothering undertone that she so often used when she spoke to him.

"I was coming to see you," he muttered as he looked up at her with something strange on his face. "I didn't want you to go to bed mad at me. I read it somewhere."

"Yeah," she sighed heavily. "About that-"

"No," he tried to sit up again, but thought better of it before either of his companions could tell him not to. "You were right. I pushed and I shouldn't have," he told her. "You aren't ready. I knew that. It was my fault."

"No, it was my fault. You weren't out of line. You didn't push more than I needed to be pushed." Her eyes darted warily to the paramedic who was watching them with animated curiosity.

"So," he ventured, catching her silent signal. "We're good?"

She squeezed his hand and nodded once. "We're better than good."

He smiled back at her. "Yes, we are." he agreed. "Am I going to live here? Or should I be making peace with my great and fluffy Lord?"

She laughed out loud. "You'll be fine. But I think while we're there, we might talk to the doctors about removing your tonsils. You did just have a pretty serious case of tonsillitis and the added benefit would be that you wouldn't be able to take for a few days again."

He gave up after looking around for a few seconds for something to throw at her. "Is Alexis okay? Does she know?"

"Martha is bringing her. She's probably right behind us and she's fine. A little shaken, but okay."

"Thank you. I know she seems strong, but in times of crisis," he glanced down at his shoulder. "she falls apart."

She smiled, touched by his concern for his daughter as she always was. "She's fine, really."

They arrived at the hospital and Kate reluctantly let him go as they unloaded him and wheeled him into the E.R.. Celebrity had it's privileges. Martha had already called the family's physician. There would be no waiting in the holding area until he was deemed important enough to see for Rick Castle. This time, at least, she was grateful for the special treatment. The sooner they stitched him up, the sooner she could get him home. It was absolutely time to discuss the large pachyderm parked in the middle of the room.

They were gathered around his stretcher now, waiting for the doctor to return with release papers. He hadn't been quite important enough to commandeer a private room but there was a curtain pulled around them, blocking them from the rest of the patient's view. Alexis was again on his left, his injured side, holding his hand as she perched on the bedside him. Martha had wandered off to get coffee. Lanie and Javier had already gone home after seeing that there was little wrong with him.

She was almost mimicking Alexis in her pose at Rick's side, only somehow, his good arm had found itself around her waist in the guise of helping her balance on the edge of the bed.

She let herself snuggle back into his warmth while they waited.

Alexis' phone rang and she answered it quickly. "Wow," she muttered as she stared at it's screen.

Rick pulled his eyes reluctantly away from where they'd been staring at his and Kate's again, joined hands. "What is it?"

She held the phone up for both of them to see. It was a picture taken at the scene, depicting Castle on the ground and Kate and Alexis kneeling at his sides. Blood spread out over the sidewalk and rain poured down on them in the picture. It was a rather shocking image, one Kate didn't want to experience again.

Castle made a noise like he was considering something. Then he looked up and smiled. "Kind of reminds me of the night John Lennon was killed."

To Kate's delight, Alexis threw the phone at him.

The impossibly wearisome night had long since turned to morning by the time Kate got him settled into his bed. She had helped him change his shirt, made him breakfast, fluffed his blankets and even gotten him a dose of painkillers the doctor prescribed.

He wasn't sure what was going through Kate's mind yet again. It seemed to be a constant state for him lately. He missed her, missed the connection they normally had. It was unsettling, not being able to read her.

"You may not want to take those yet," she told him as she shook two pills out into his hand. "I mean if your shoulder doesn't hurt too badly."

Obviously, she wanted him clear headed for the moment, so he sat up and sat both the pills and the water on the table beside him. Then he turned to her, waiting for whatever it was she had to say a touch anxiously.

When she didn't say anything the anxiety increased ten-fold and he took a deep breath to try to stop his suddenly hammering heart. "What is it, Kate?"

She was wringing her hands and her ears were turning a rather beautiful shade of rose, and all the while she was shifting her weight from one foot to the other while chewing on her bottom lip like she did when she was nervous.

He didn't think he could ever remember seeing her quite this nervous.

"I'm not a very nice person first thing in the mornings," she told him like it was a secret she'd been trying to keep but couldn't.

"I know," he nodded at her despite the confusion on his face.

"I can be snappy when I'm having a bad day. I'm a little condescending and judgmental. Sometimes when I'm frustrated at the world over a case or just life in general, I take it out on everyone around me."

"I know. Believe me, I know," he smiled this time, hoping he could see where she was going with this.

"Sometimes when I get wrapped up with a case I forget to call and say I'll be home late. I don't mean to and it doesn't mean I don't care, it's just that I have a one track mind sometimes. I cry at stupid movies and sometimes at commercials at Christmas time."

He laughed quietly. "Again, I know."

"I squeeze the toothpaste from the middle. I don't take out the trash like I should and I drink from the carton of milk," she went on.

He laughed again. "I know, I know, and _I know_."

She stopped shifting and looked his straight in the eyes. "And you're still here."

He returned her gaze with an equal amount of weight. "And I'm not going anywhere." This was his opening, his chance to make her understand. She had cracked the door for him. It was his turn to push it the rest of the way. He cleared his throat and used the time to bring every one of his skills with words into play. He needed to make sure he got this right. This was a memory they were creating. And the ending of it could very well rest with his next words. He needed to choose wisely. "You're also impossibly stubborn, argumentative and a little high handed at times. But the way I see it, you are exactly like I ordered you. You are everything I love and everything I love to hate all wrapped up into a package that takes my breath away. You're like the best Christmas present I've ever gotten. A custom one, made just for me, one that couldn't fit me any more perfectly."

She was on him before he had a chance to go on.

**A/N : I just wanted to take a minute to say thank you all again for your interest in this story. It's so nice to know you like what I do. Also, to those of you that are fans of my work, not just Castle fans, I wanted to tell you about a new project I'm starting. On June 1, 2011, I will be launching my very own, very original, text based web series. Evernight will be a weekly series set in the community of Evernight, a sanctuary set aside for supernatural creatures that wish to live in the open and away from humans, giving them the freedom to be themselves. So I hope to see you all there. I'll shoot you an A/N with the site address as soon as I find a place I like. Evernight, a place where being Supernatual is Natural. **


	10. Chapter 10

The bed made a noise as she shifted, trying to draw herself closer into his body. She needed to feel him, feel as much of him against as much of her as possible. It was a need to reaffirm to herself that he was really there, that he was okay. The events of the evening had been more than she could handle. The kiss, the fight, the phone call from Martha, finding him unconscious, lying on the ground in a puddle of blood. It was all too much.

She heard him make a sound closely related to a whimper as her hand buried itself in his hair. Another sound came when she nipped at his bottom lip. His hands were resting at her waist, seemingly casually, except for the way his fingers flexed and relaxed into her flesh. One of them moved up to sprawl across her back and it stunned her when it almost covered the expanse completely.

She thought about pulling away from him. She needed to breathe. She needed to get her head to stop spinning. She needed a little distance suddenly. There was too much going on, too much feeling as his tongue flicked across the roof of her mouth and his hand on her back pulled her in even closer.

But she stilled those impulses. She didn't want to think anymore. She just wanted him, wanted him like she'd never wanted anything in her life. For the first time, the entire world melted and he was all she knew, and she wasn't scared by it. It didn't terrify her that he was all that existed. He was enough. They were enough. She could be perfectly happy in a world where nothing existed aside from the two of them.

"Kate," he whispered breathlessly when she pulled back just enough to snatch a bit of oxygen.

"Rick," she answered in the same tone before finding his lips again.

"I want to spend the rest of my life hearing you say my name like that," he told her.

She pulled away and looked down into his face, a little shocked by his confession. The look on his face said he hadn't meant for the words to be said out loud.

"Really?" she breathed in a shaky voice.

He smiled, a soft, reflective smile that she rarely saw him wear, but it was one of her favorites.

"Yes, really." She watched as he swallowed hard, the motion causing his Adam's apple to bob with the force of it. "I love you."

She used the tip of her tongue to lick her suddenly dry lips and took in a lungful of refreshing air. "I love you, too," she answered in a voice that sounded nothing like her own and she chided herself for it's weakness. Then she cleared her throat and tried again. "I love you, too."

He smiled at her indulgently and he brushed his thumb over the ridge of her cheekbone gently. "I know," he nodded.

She couldn't hold his stare any longer, the way he was peering at her was too much. There was too much emotion in his eyes for her to handle. "Maybe you should take those pills and try to get some sleep. I'm sure your shoulder hurts."

When she found his face again, the look he wore was wounded, disappointed. "I'd completely forgotten about it actually," he told her. "And I'm suddenly wide awake."

She smiled at that and moved her hand up to push a few stray hairs from his forehead. "Take your pills like a good boy and go to sleep and I promise I'll be here when you wake up."

"You'll stay?" he asked unnecessarily.

"I will. I'll be right here when you wake up and you'll feel better I'm sure," she assured him.

He pulled her back into him and leaned forward at the same time. His head dipped to her throat and he ever so softly kissed her skin. "We will be revisiting this conversation," he promised determinedly.

She tried to nod in response as her stomach flopped over the feel of his mouth against her neck. "Yes, we will," she agreed. "Trust me."

Once she was changed and settled into bed, he immediately came to her, bringing his body flush against her back and wrapping his arm around her waist. His solid warmth against her made her feel as safe and protected as she ever had. It was almost a funny thought. She never knew how incredible vulnerable and alone she really felt until he showed up and made her see what she was missing. Now, lying there in his arms with his nose pressed against the back of her neck and his lips grazing the skin there, she understood what she'd been looking for all these years. It was this. This feeling that he somehow always managed to invoke in her. She couldn't even really describe what it was, she just knew that it was how he made her feel and she never wanted to be without it again.

It was like coming home after a long journey. Comfortable, secure, familiar, complete.

He snuggled closer to her and pulled her hair aside so he could continue to pepper her skin with light kisses that made her want to squirm. Every time his lips brushed her skin a jolt of electricity sparked through her entire body.

Turning in his arms, she found herself face to face with him and the look was back, the heavy, weighted look that held so much meaning there was too much to identify. His eyes spoke volumes as he took in her face.

"I thought we were going to get some sleep," she commented.

His hand was now behind her and he was using his finger to make easy, gentle circles on the small of her back. It was driving her to distraction.

"I'm sorry," he smiled. "I can't seem to stop myself." To prove his point, he captured her lips in an tender kiss.

Her hand flexed where it rested on his bare bicep. "I know," she whispered.

He pulled back and took a deep breath. "Okay, sleep now," he announced like he was instructing his body to listen. "Play later."

She kissed him again, a quick one this time and the smile on both their lips made it a completely different experience. "Yes, play later, sleep now," she agreed.

She felt a little guilty, like she'd given him the green light, then abruptly switched it to red. Teasing him wasn't her intention. Neither was torturing him. She just felt it was necessary. They both needed a moment to absorb this new direction they had taken. Sleeping on it, giving themselves time to catch up with all that had occurred between them over the last twenty four hours was a good plan. In the long run, she'd appreciate it. So would he.

"Can I say something before we sleep?" he asked earnestly.

She smiled. "Of course, you can say anything to me."

"I love you."

She smiled again, wider this time. "You already said that."

He smiled back, just as wide, just as stupidly giddy. "It bears repeating."

"Well, then, I love you, too," she answered. It felt like such a relief, the words tumbled from her lips almost carelessly. The ease of her admittance just reiterated to her how crazy she had been to fight against this. It was just so right, so natural and freeing.

"I know," he answered, and the words held more than just an affirmation that he knew she loved him. It said he understood exactly what she was thinking and couldn't agree more.

They were back, the connection between them was there once again, only somehow even stronger now though she hadn't believed that was even possible. She could almost see the thoughts floating behind his eyes as she looked at him and from his expression, she could tell that he felt the same way.

They lay there like that for what seemed like forever, simply staring into each other's faces, not speaking, not moving, just gazing, until finally his eyes began to drift shut and his face became relaxed. As if, it was the signal her own body had been waiting for, her eyes closed as well and she let sleep claim her, confident this time, that it would be a long, peaceful rest.

A distant clap of thunder was what woke him. He was facing away from the clock so he had no idea what time it was, but it was still dark out and the only light in the room came from the moonlight drifting in from the still-opened curtains that covered the room's two windows. A small part of his mind noticed the large droplets of rain splattered against one of the panes of glass. The rest of his mind was occupied by the fact that he had woken to find her still in his arms and gazing at him rather intently.

His mind immediately jumped back to the conversation they had shared on the phone and he almost laughed out loud at how everything was exactly how she'd described it to him. His eyes shifted upwards for a moment as he sent a silent thank you to the powers that be, giving them a respectful nod for their flare for the dramatic. For something up there had to have set this all up. There was no other explanation for the perfection of the moment he now found himself in the middle of.

And then she kissed him just like she told him Nikki would kiss Rook. It was heated and passionate and held a world of possibilities. Her lips, firm, yet yielding, glided over his causing him to fight back a whimper at the intensity of the emotions behind it. Then just like she predicted, the kiss changed, she changed and the emotion behind the kiss became something far deeper than lust and need. Now along with the passion, there was deference, a sense of wonderment like nothing he'd ever felt from her before. It stunned him. He felt so fortunate to be allowed into her life and it threw him off guard when he realized that she felt the same way. The adoration and admiration that he had always felt for her was being returned with equal passion and it astounded him.

He randomly mused that he didn't deserve to have her kiss him like that. He was the lucky one.

He made sure to let her know it as he returned her kiss with vigor.

She shifted, curling her leg around his thigh and drawing him closer still. The feel of her smooth skin against his rougher flesh caused a jolt to spasm through his entire body.

The only hiccup was that he actually was wearing a shirt and it was apparent that she noticed as well, because she was tugging at the material, trying to get her hands under it. He leaned up and pulled back long enough to gingerly remove it from his injured shoulder before jerking it the rest of the way off and giving it a toss.

Once it was gone, her hands began to move over skin, like she was an artist testing out the feel of a new medium under her fingertips. If the quiet little noises she was making as she continued to kiss him were any indication, she was enjoying the feeling.

Her thumb flicked over one of his nipples and his whole body jerked in response to the almost overwhelming sensation. When she began to suck on his tongue, drawing it into her mouth as she attempted to swallow him whole, he groaned deeply and wrapped his arms around her even more tightly.

Then his hands found her waist and he ever-so-slowly, pulled them up her sides, dragging her shirt along for the ride. She arched into his touch the moment his hands grazed her bare skin and sent a little moan into the depths of his mouth.

He swallowed the sound before pulling his mouth from hers reluctantly and lowering his head to her now exposed breasts. They were nice breasts, he thought whimsically, as he slid his lips over one taut nipple, drawing it into his mouth almost lazily. The rough material of her lacy bra felt abrasive against his tongue as he swirled it around the tight bud.

She groaned and pressed her body into his, pushing her breast more firmly into his mouth in the process. Her head lolled to the side and he glanced up at her face just in time to see and hear the moan that fell from her lips. It was a low, throaty sound that set every nerve-ending in his body on alert.

The entire feeling of what was happening between them was different than he'd expected. It wasn't frenzied or rushed. It wasn't urgent like he thought it would be. Instead there was a lingering, exploring quality to the way their bodies moved against each other. His hunger had taken on a slow, savoring need that was so much stronger, so much more consuming than the rush of lust he normally felt when she was near him.

He moved to her other breast, unhurriedly giving it the same treatment. He was so caught up in the feel her under his lips that he hadn't noticed her shift her hands behind her until he felt the material of her bra slacken. Then it was in something close to awe that he watched her pull it from her body.

He was transfixed, for a moment, incapable of thought or movement. He brought his hand up to cup one of the globes of flesh, trying out the weight of it in his palm. Then he bent his head back down, and inched his tongue first over the creamy, smooth, white flesh, then the dusty rose colored, rougher skin, before finally taking the tip between his lips. Her response was more than he could have imagined when her hand came up to tighten in his hair as she writhed in his arms. It was absolute bliss knowing he was responsible for it.

He came to a stop at the valley between her breasts, resting there for a minute as he indulged in running his lips along her breastbone. Again she groaned and ground her body into his. Her other breast tasted as sweet as the first, he noted as he went about making sure it didn't feel left out.

He crawled upward, tracing the curve of her shoulder and the line of her collarbone languidly.

The air between them had taken on an intense feeling, echoing the distant roll of thunder that broke the silence of the room. It rumbled for a long moment as if the sky were yawning with the first rays of light playing through the window.

He finally came to the end of his journey, arriving at the place he had desperately wanted to taste since she'd made mention of it. He wasn't disappointed by her reaction when he gently began to suck at the place just below her ear.

One of her hands was wrapped around his arm, flexing almost feverishly into the muscle there. The other was still in his hair, holding his mouth tightly against her as she sighed under him.

Her other leg had snaked its way around his thigh and he found himself resting against her, his weight bearing down on her at her own insistence. She had him so tightly in her grip that he couldn't have gotten away if he wanted to, not that he ever, _EVER_ wanted to get away from her again. He would be perfectly happy to die, right where he was, with her hungrily wrapped around him.

The rain began to splatter more forcefully against the window and another rumble of thunder said the storm was almost upon them. It was a slow moving one apparently. There was nothing violent or fearful in the noise outside the window. It was more like a releasing of some pent up pressure from the skies above.

He could sympathize.

He found her lips again, silently applauding her wanton, eager response. She returned his kiss with a greedy, ravenous lust that took his breath away.

He had always known there was something spectacular hidden under all her layers, but the sheer power of her passion was overwhelming. Once again, she surprised him.

He pulled back from her long enough to see the look on her face. He needed a visual to go along with the feel of her like that. And again, she didn't disappoint. He was mesmerized by her. This was how he'd always wanted to see her. Naked, vulnerable, open and raw, under him, unencumbered by the mask she normally held so firmly in place.

Kate Beckett in her purest form was almost more than he could handle. It was too much to take in all at once, too mind-boggling to comprehend.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a split second trying to regain some of his fragile control.

It was all the opening she needed. Before he could offer any form on resistance, she had him on his back. Her hands and lips attacked his chest voraciously. He couldn't really keep up with all the movement, the scrape of her fingernails, the grazing of her teeth, the velvety softness of her tongue, it all combined into something so much more all-encompassing than he had ever experienced before.

The storm outside dragged on lazily while the one inside began to reach a crescendo of epic proportions. The air crackled and hissed around them, encumbered by the vastness of the emotions playing between them. Now came the urgency he'd been expecting to begin with, now the hunger roared between them as hands flew over skin and lips glided over flesh. He was quite proud of himself for being able to keep up.

He winced and jerked when she accidentally bumped his wounded shoulder and she whispered rushed apologizes into the near darkness. He waved her off, letting her know that right then, his shoulder was the last thing on his mind.

They tumbled restlessly, too busy with touching and feeling and savoring each other to pay attention to who was in control. It didn't matter, wasn't important. All that mattered was being as close to each other as humanly possible. She was pressing so tightly into him it was like she was trying to slip under his skin and he was no better, holding her so firmly not even air could pass between them.

Her bare breasts pushing into his equally bare chest created a feeling beyond reasoning.

He had no idea where the rest of their meager clothing went and really he couldn't have cared less. All he knew was that she was shifting, settling herself against the bed as she pulled him over her. As soon as he was close enough, her legs once again wrapped around the backs of his thighs and he sighed in complete rapture as his body settled over hers.

He felt himself, throbbing and harder than he had ever been in his life, resting against her heated center and the mere thought of it sent a shiver through him.

Then as if they were completely in sync, she shifted her hips just as he shifted his and suddenly he was buried so deep inside her he felt as if he couldn't possibly go any further. Stars exploded behind his eyes and the sound that came from him was not a human one.

Her body was nearly doubling over from the overwhelming sensation and her eyes were squeezed as tightly closed as his.

He didn't want to move, the feel of her body surrounding him so tightly, so possessively was far better than he had ever dreamed it could be.

Natural instinct finally won out and he began to ease himself from her depths. It felt like he was trying to keep two magnets apart. Every time he made an attempt to pull away, she yanked him right back into her.

As their need increased, he tried to increase his speed, but realized a bit belatedly that his shoulder was becoming a problem, refusing to support his weight and allow him more freedom of movement and leverage.

She obviously realized it, too, because she suddenly grabbed hold of his shoulders and flipped them so that he was on his back and she was above him.

The change in position suited him just fine. He had no problem letting her take the lead and set the pace. The one she chose was once again the slow, languid one they'd begun with. He rested his hands on her waist, helping her keep her balance as she shifted her hips. She was straddling him, looking down at him with a dark, hooded expression that turned his world upside down. Her breasts bounced with her movements and he couldn't help reaching up to cup one of them in his palm. His thumb grazed her nipple and she arched her back into his touch as she continued to move above him.

It was surreal watching her like that, a delight unparallelled by anything he'd ever experienced. Her head was thrown back, eyes almost closed, mouth slightly agape. Her body was bowed into his touch as if she were subconsciously begging for more. A sheen of sweat covered her, making her skin almost sparkle in the rooms dim lighting. It was a sight that was beautiful beyond words. He wished he were a different sort of artist, one with the ability to capture the way she looked right then. It was spellbinding.

There was no real warning before her body tightened around his. He wished there had been so he could have braced himself for the feel of her muscles squeezing him so tightly it was exquisitely painful. Instead, it happened all at once and there was no chance to prepare.

She gave a cry out into the darkness and fell forward as her body continued to spasm around him. There was nothing he could do to stop himself from following right along behind her.

She thought there might be some awkwardness between them. There usually was with the other men in her life. She had never been good at this sort of thing. She never knew how long to she was suppose to lie in their arms before moving. She never knew what to say afterward.

But now, lying there, stretched over his chest she felt perfectly content and if his arm's, wrapped around her, holding her tightly, were any indication, he was pretty content as well. She considered the fact that her weight on his heaving chest probably wasn't helping him to regain his breathing, but pulling away right then just wasn't an option. She couldn't make herself move away from him.

They hadn't said a word in so long it was eerie. The only sound in the room was their combined ragged breathing, the rain pelting the window and the occasional clap of thunder. A particularly loud roar caused her to pick her head up from his chest and glance out the window.

"It's like you planned this." She smiled when she returned her head to its previous resting place.

He chuckled and shrugged. "Again, I had to pull some strings, but I think it was worth it."

She crossed her hands over the center of his chest and used them to prop her head up so she could see his face. "I thought I noticed you on the phone earlier. Who exactly do you call to order a gentle thunderstorm?"

"I have a guy," he smiled down at her.

She snuggled back against him with a smile on her face. "I hope you have a lot of clout with this guy. I could get used to this."

"I hope so," he answered, suddenly serious. "I really hope so."

She shifted, finally deciding it was time to find her own place on the bed, and more or less slid down his side, letting her body settle flush against him. In immediate response, he turned and wrapped one arm around her, drawing her into him, almost as if he were afraid to let her get too far away. He was keeping her nice and tight against his chest. He was using the guise of affection to keep her from running away and she felt a sudden flash of anger. If he were patting her head and telling her it was going to be alright, he couldn't have been anymore obvious.

She was about to open her mouth to tell him to let her go, when he smiled at her warmly and bent to lay a gentle kiss against her lips.

And just like that all the anger melted from her like the air let out of a balloon. She struggled to hide any emotion from her face and fought the urge to panic. If he found out that that was all it took to appease her anger it would be the death of her. She'd never know another moment's peace.

No, it was far better to keep that update all to herself.

**A/N : Don't forget about Evernight June 1st. Gizzymoon at blogspot dot com. Come along. It's gotta be great. **


	11. Chapter 11

It had been a long day. It seemed like every part of her body hurt. In an effort to apprehend a suspect, a long foot chase had ensued and it had pushed her considerable physical prowess to its limits.

She was bone-deep tired.

Running a hand through her hair to smooth it back from her face, she stood and all the muscles in her lower body protested with the effort.

A glance at the empty chair beside her desk caused her mood to plummet even further. Rick hadn't been to the precinct in nearly two weeks. A book tour had taken him away this time. She gave herself permission, for just a moment, to hate his other job, if only because it caused these long absences that she was very much not fond of.

Her phone rang and she reached into the pocket of her charcoal gray slacks to retrieve it.

"I'm on my way now," she said into the handset before the other party on the line had a chance to ask.

"I was just wondering what to do about dinner. The natives are getting restless," Alexis announced.

Bless her. She done more than her share of helping since Rick left and Kate couldn't even begin to tell her how grateful she was. "Order pizza. I'll be there in fifteen minutes," she told her even as she grabbed her purse and started for the elevator.

"Beckett!" a voice called before the doors had a chance to close.

She stopped them and poked her head out to find Kevin Ryan bustling towards her.

"Oh, maybe not, but I won't be long," she sighed into the phone dejectedly.

"Dad called. He said to have you call him when you got home. He didn't want to bother you at work," she added before they disconnected.

"Alright. I'll see you soon."

She put her phone away just as Ryan reached her.

"Do you have plans this weekend?" he asked her.

"Yes," she nodded decisively. "I'm going home, getting my house in order and taking a nice, long swim in the tub."

He started shuffling the papers he was holding in his hands and looked down at his feet. Beckett braced herself for whatever favor he was about to ask of her. "Something came up and Jenny's parents can't watch the boys this weekend. You know it's our anniversary and we had plans to go to Vermont to this little bed and breakfast. I was going to ask Lanie and Javi, but she's going to have the baby just any second now, so really they can't. I was wondering if you might keep them."

It wasn't the first time she'd watched his boys, not even the first time she'd had them overnight. In the last five years, Ryan's boys and Javi's daughter were staples at her house. So it was with barely any reluctance at all that she smiled and nodded to him. "Bring them over. I'll be happy to keep them."

He startled her when he reached out and hugged her. She wasn't really a hugger and close contact with her colleagues wasn't her style. "Thank you so much. I owe you one," he was saying as he let her go.

"It's no problem. I'll see you around seven?"

"You bet. I'll make sure they eat dinner and take a bath before we leave. All you'll have to do tonight is put them to bed."

"Okay. I'll see you then."

Once in the elevator closed, she grabbed her phone and called Alexis back. "You better order another pizza. It looks like we've having company."

The journey home seemed as long as the day before it and it was with great relief that she stepped into her loft and tugged her purse from her shoulder. Setting it aside, she barely completed the move before her arms were suddenly filled with a four-year-old ball of energy.

She hugged her son tightly into her chest before swooping him up and balancing him on her hip.

"Were you a good boy today?" she asked him as she smoothed the light brown hair from his brow. So much like his father, she mused to herself.

"I made you a 'prize." he announced. "And I talked to Daddy on the phone and Lexi helped me order pizza."

"Wow," she beamed. "You've had a busy day."

"Did you catch bad guys?" He wanted to know, like he always did. Kate was pretty certain they had a cop in the making in the little boy.

"I did. He's going to jail for a long, long time. Where are your sisters?"

"They're in the kitchen," he told her.

"How would you like it if Patrick and Devon came to stay the weekend with us?"

He made a face. "Devon is like Molly, too little to play with."

She smiled at him as they stepped into the kitchen. Then she sat him down and ruffled his hair. "He won't always be." She cast a glance towards her daughter where she sat in the highchair, banging two spoons against the tray. "Neither will she, for that matter."

She went over to place a kiss to the infant's forehead and delighted when the eight-month-old looked up at her and smiled brightly before exclaiming, "Momma!"

Kate smiled back and kissed her again.

"Call Dad," Alexis insisted from the other side of the kitchen island. "It sounded important."

"Important like he's going to be home early? Or important like he's going to be home late?" she questioned. He had another week to go on his tour and she really, really hoped they hadn't extended it.

"Important like he really misses you," Alexis answered. "Actually he sounded kind of down and we all know that isn't normal for him."

"Did you order the pizza?" she asked before stepping out of the room.

"It's on it's way."

She nodded and took off down the hall towards her bedroom.

The minute the door was closed behind her, she grabbed her phone and punched in the most recent number for his hotel room. "Yes," a female voice answered, startling her for a moment.

She recovered quickly. "Where is Rick, Gina?" she demanded.

"He isn't here, but I'll be happy to let him know the 'little wife' called when I see him again," Her tone was it's usual acerbic mixture of barely contained hatred and scarcely veiled sarcasm. Gina hadn't been that friendly since Kate and Rick had gotten married. She suspected it was because the publisher still had her sights on the best selling writer as more than a client. Kate had long since accepted the fact that his ex-wives hated her. At least Meredith, Alexis' mother, was a little more subtle about it.

"When do you expect him back? And why exactly are you in his room?" she asked, trying to hold on to her temper.

"I'm not sure and I'm here to take a bath. His tub is much more luxurious than mine."

So she was naked and wet in her husband's hotel room, halfway across the country. Her first instinct was to hang up and hop the next flight to Cleveland. But she stilled the thought. She trusted him. She knew he wouldn't fall for the blond's schemes. Still, it was hard to just let it go. She wanted nothing more than to barge into his room and escort the woman back to her own room, at gun point, if necessary. The thought of the look on her face when Kate barged in and booted her bony ass out of the room was almost enough incentive all on it's own. The added bonus to that plan would be getting to spend the night with her husband.

"Just tell him I called and that I'm home," she muttered before hanging up and tossing the phone on the bed.

The wait on the bath was considerable. The excitement in the house at having guests took a while to die down and it was a struggle to get everyone bedded down and off to sleep. But somehow she and Alexis had finally managed it.

The young girl had barely left the loft, heading off to her own apartment, before Kate made a beeline for the tub.

She had been thinking about it all day long and finally she allowed herself to sink down into the bubbles. She let out a long, weary sigh as soon as she was submerged.

She was just reaching a hand up to take hold of the latest Nikki Heat book, the eighth in the series, when the bathroom door slowly began to open.

All her cop instincts went on high alert and she immediately searched the room for a weapon to grab.

Then she relaxed just as quickly as a very familiar face poked through the opening.

"I thought I might find you here," her husband smiled as he stepped completely into the room.

"What are you doing here?" she exclaimed, sitting upright quickly.

"Apparently, I was being a boorish ass. So I was instructed to go home for the weekend," he explained as he came to the steps that lead up to the raised tub and sat down.

He already had his jacket off, his tie as well and the top two buttons on his shirt were open.

"That little bitch," Kate muttered under her breath.

"What little bitch would that be?" he asked as his hands went to the remaining buttons and he began to undo them.

"Your ex-wife. I called your hotel room and she told me you weren't there, but she didn't say you were on your way home."

He smiled ruefully as he tugged the shirt from his shoulders and went to work on his shoes. "That sounds like Gina. So what's been happening around here? Am I an honorary uncle again?"

"Not yet. We are all on high alert though. Javi is practically bouncing off the walls and Lanie isn't much better."

"Speaking of being an uncle. I poked my head in to kiss Molly and Royce and I noticed there are more children here than there were when I left," he commented drily. "What happened? Did you feed them after midnight?"

She sat back in the tub and watched as he went about removing the rest of his clothing. Then she shifted to allow him to slip in behind her. Once his arms were securely wrapped around her and her back was settled against his chest she laced her fingers through his and turned her head to smile at him. "I couldn't help it. They were just so cute, staring up at me, begging with those huge eyes. I think we'll be okay as long as we don't get them wet as well."

He laughed against the column of her throat. "Actually, it was getting them wet that multiplied them, feeding them was what turned them into monsters."

"Of course, you would know that," she sighed before leaning in to kiss him.

"You look like you had a bad day," he whispered into his hair.

"I did," she nodded. "But it's better now."

She leaned back more firmly into him and let herself relax in his arms.

"Just because of me?" he teased.

"Everyday is a better day with you in it," she answered earnestly.

"I love you, too," he answered before pulling her down into a kiss.

-The End-

**Author's Note : It is a sad thing to see this end. I've had so much fun writing it. Readership to this fic is higher than any other fic I've published. I can't tell you what that means to me. Knowing you're out there, you're reading and you care is overwhelming, to say the least. Look for my newest Castle fic, Moments. It will be a series of one shots that fill in the gaps in the five years that pass in this story. I hope to see you there. I can't promise when I can get to it. Evernights is taking up a lot of my writing time. But I will get to it. And thank you so well to all those who have expressed interest and enthusiasm over Evernights. I am really hoping to step out of my safe zones and push my boundries with this new enterprise. Hope to see you there as well. I also wanted to give a huge thanks to those readers that have truly touched my heart through your reviews, Beetlebug, PKL, Nathanfan, Matchbox, phnxgrl, killmypatience , there are so many. I hope I didn't leave anyone out, if I did, apologizes, it doesn't mean you mean any less to me. And lastly, but most certainly not least, a HUGE HUGE thank you to Ariel119. You are the best beta a girl could have. So insightful and thorough. I couldn't have done it without you. **


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